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PARADISE LOST. 



What time hia pride 
Had cast him ont from heaven 



*& — - — — -f 4 



THE 



POETICAL WORKS 



0? 



JOHN MILTON 



A NEW EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED 



FROM THE TEXT OF THOMAS NEWTON, D.D. 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WILLIAM HARVEY 



LONDON 
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS 

Broadway, Ludgate Hill 
NEW YORK: 4 i6, BROOME STREET 



\r -£• 



•e- 






ROUTLEDGE'S RED LINE POETS. 

COWPER. 

MILTON. 

WORDSWORTH. 

SOUTHEY. 

GOLDSMITH. 

BURNS. 

MOORE. 

BYRON. 

POPE. 

SCOTT. 

HERBERT. 

CAMPBELL. 

SHAKSPERE. 

CHAUCER. 

WILLIS. 

SACRED POEMS. 

FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS. 

MRS. HEMANS. 

SHELLEY. 

COLERIDGE. 

HOOD. 

COMIC POETRY. 

THE BOOK OP BALLADS. 

LORDLYTTON'S POEMS. 

LORD LYTTON'S DRAMAS. 




tLU.t- 



CUJUL 



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1 



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PREFAI&. 



!a preparing the present edition of Milton's poetical w^rka 
I have lab cured under the somewhat difficult task of trying 
to give a good deal of matter in a very small space. A 
writer like Milton, whose whole style is fraught with 
allusion, and ^ ho, like Propertius, is perpetually aiming at 
making erudition subservient to poetry, draws largely, not 
only on the present feelings, but likewise on the memory of 
his readers. And yet, so noble are Milton's imitations — so 
frequently does he surpass the model — so perfect is the 
mould, so exquisite the chisel with which he recasts the 
idea of an earlier brother in the art, that it is ever a pleasing 
study to compare passage with passage, word with word, 
and to marvel at the process which has refined many a 
crudity, softened and Christianized many a thought, which 
wanted Christianity only to give it greatness. 

The able annotations collected or written by Bishoy 
Newton, have done so much towards showing what Milto* 
imitated, and how he could imitate, that I cannot lay credit 
for much originality in the notes now submitted to the 
reader. If I have any regret, it is, that there is an unfor 
tunate law of dimensions which prevents the possibility ol 
compressing the contents of four rather substantial octavoa 
into a volume of the size and price which, in these book- 
buying days, is almost inseperable from popular success. 
But I hope that what is given will be found plain and 
useful, and that few readers will go away unsatisfied, as fin 
understanding the meaning of the poet is concerned. 



+4)* 



vi PREFACE. 

As to the text, I have almost invariably avoided the dis> 
cussion of various readings, partly from want of space, 
partly because I had no wish to give a practical lesson on 
the uncertainty of criticism. No man who has ever written 
a " copy of verses" (whether in canine Latin, bad English, 
or otherwise) can be ignorant how easy it is to substitute 
one word for another, or to correct for the better or the 
worse. A few rather obvious corrections have therefore 
formed the limit of my efforts, as far as criticism is con- 
cerned. 

It is a vain task to try to praise Milton, after so many 
better critics have exhausted the theme ; but I may, 
perhaps, be permitted to say a few words respecting the 
value of his writings as a lesson in English, the language 
probably most neglected by Englishmen, and most cared 
for by Milton. Milton drew on the classical and Con- 
tinental languages with unsparing freedom. He culled ac- 
curacy from one language, brilliancy from another, and 
iquaintness from the archaisms of a third. His style was 
thoroughly educated; he used words not according to con- 
vention, but with a strict reference to then* derivation and 
primitive meaning ; and if he sometimes sacrificed power to 
refinement, he never suffered himself to write vulgarly in 
order to be thought to write down to the popular " style 
cf the day." 

Milton's eccentricities of langu^e are often nothing more 
or less than struggles after correctness. Even in the spel 
ling of words, he has a scholastic reason for the variations 
he takes from popular practice. His writing are a fine anc 
a speaking lesson to those who imagine that poetry may sol 
grammar at defiance, and that wanton transgression o 
everything like sober writing is a first-rate, if not a sufB- 
cient credential to the court of the Muses. 

Theodore Alois JJc:cklsy. 
London 1853 



<&■ 



CONTENTS. 



TAS3 

?AfiADigE Lost ....,•.-„ 1 

Paradise Regained ..,,.,.„ 303 

Samson Agonistes ! 356 

Poems on Several Occasions :— 
i. On the death of a fair 

infant.., 407 

n. Anno a;tatis xrx. ...„..,. 409 
Hi. On the morning of Christ's 

nativity 412 

IV. The passion 419 

v. On time ,.,.... 421 

VI. Upon the circumcision... 422 

vn. At a solemn music 42? 

Tin, An epitaph on the Mar- 
chioness of Winchester. 424 
ix. Song on May morning... 426 

x. On Shakspeare ib. 

xi. On the university carrier 427 
xii. Another on the same ... ib. 

xm. L'Allegro 429 

xiv. II Penseroso 433 

xv. Arcades »,.,...... 438 

xvi. Comus, a Mask.. 443 

xvii. Lycidas 474 

cvm. The fifth ode of Horace. 480 
Ad Pyrrham, Ode V. ... 481 
xix. On the new forcers of con- 
science under the Long 
Parliament ..,.,., ib. 

1<NNETS — 

i. To ohc nightingale 483 

H. Donna lcggiadra, &c. ... ib. 
ui. Qua! in colle aspro &c... 484 



FiCl 

Sonnets— 

Canzone,,*,...,,,..,^..,,,., 484 

iv. Diodati, &c. ,.,., ib 

v. Per certo i bei, &c 4S5 

VI. Giovane piano, &c ib. 

vn. On his being arrived at 
the age of twenty-three. 486 
vni. When the assault was in- 
tended to the city ib. 

IX. To a virtuous young lady. 487 
x. To the Lady Margaret 

Ley ib. 

xi. On the detraction which 
followed upon my writing 

certain treatises 488 

xii. On the same ib. 

xiu. To Mr. II. Lawes on his 

airs 488 

xrv. On the religious memory 
of Mrs. Catherine Thom- 
son, my Christian friend, ib 
XV. To the Lord General 

Fairfax 490 

xvi. To the Lord General 

Cromwell ib. 

xvii. To Sir Henry Vane the 

Younger...., 491 

xvrn. On the late massacre in 

Piemont ,,„.. ib. 

xix. On his blindness .«,.»,.. 492 

xx. To Mr. Lawrence ib, 

xxi. To Cyriac Skinner 493 

xxii. To the same ib. 

xxiii. On his deceased wife ... 494 



*4> 



*& 



viii 

tVAXJKS-— 

Psalm I. .,..,....., 

Psalm II 


CONTa 

,.. 495 
... ib. 


ZNTS. 

EPIGHAJkLMATUM LlBER— 

In proditionem bombardi- 
cam ,.,.«.,., 841 


Psalm III 


.... 496 


In eandem „, ib. 


Psalm IV 


.... 497 


In eandem ib. 


Psalm V , 


... 498 


In eandem 542 


Psalm VI .„., 


.... 499 


In inventorem bombardse ib. 


Psalm YII 


.... 500 


Ad Leonoram Eomae Ca- 


Psalm VIII 


.... 502 


nentem „ , t „ ib. 


Psalm LXXX... 


.... ib. 


Ad eandem ,„ 543 


Psalm LX XXI 


.... 504 


Ad eandem ib. 


Psalm LXXXII 


.... 50G 


Apologus de rustico et hero ib. 


Psalm LXXXIII 

Psalm LXXXIV 


.... 507 
.... 508 


Sflvarum Liber — 

In obitum procancellarii 
medici 544 


Psalm LXXXV 


.... 510 


Psalm LXXXVI 


.... 511 


In quintum Novembris ... 545 


Psalm LXXXVII 


.... 513 


In obitum Priesulis Eliensis 551 


Psalm LXXXVIII 


.... 514 


Naturam non pati senium. 552 
De idea platonica quemad- 
modum Aristctelos in- 


A paraphrase on Psalm 
CXIV sifi 


Psalm CXXXVI 


.... ib. 


tellexit 554 


JOHANNIS MXLTONI LONDI- 
NENSIS POEMATA 


.... 519 


Ad patrem 555 


Ad Salsillum, poetam Ko- 


Elbgiabum Liber Primus- 


.... 524 


manum, segrotantem ... 558 
Mansus 559 


Elegia prima 


Epitaphium Damonis ...... 562 

Ad Joannem Rousium 


Elegia secunda... 


.... 526 


Elegia tertia 


.... 527 


Oxoniensig Academise 


Elegia quarta ........... 


.... 529 


Bibliothecarium set 


Elegia quinta 


.... 532 


Ad Christinam suecorum 


fcisgU sexta. ...,,,.. ,...., 
Elegia septiiaa, ....,.„„ 


.... 535 
.«.-. 638 


reginam nomine Croni- 
welli .• iini>«m,iuu.« 67(1 



arabisc fost. 



BOOK L 



THE ABGT7K5NT. 

fcis First Book proposes, first in brief, the whole subject, Man'e dis- 
obedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise wherein he was 
placed: then touches the prime cause of his fall, the serpent, or 
rather Satan in the serpent; who revolting from God, and drawing 
to his side many legions of angels, was by the command of God 
driven out of Heaven, with all his crew, into the great deep. 
Which action passed over, the poem hastens into the midst of 
things, presenting Satan with his angels now fallen into Hell, 
described here, not in the centre (for Heaven and Earth may be 
supposed as yet not made, certainly not yet accursed), but in a 
place of utter darkness, fitliest called Chaos: here Satan with his 
angels lying on the burning lake, thunderstruck and astonished, 
after a certain space recovers, as from confusion, calls up him who 
next in order and dignity lay by him ; they confer of their miserable 
fall. Satan awakens all his legions, who lay till then in the same 
manner confounded; they rise, their numbers, array of battle, 
their chief leaders named, according to the idols known afterwards 
in Canaan and the countries adjoining. To these Satan directs his 
speech, comforts them with hope yet of regaining Heaven, but 
tells them lastly of a new world and new kind of creature to be 
created, according to an ancient prophecy or report in Heaven ; for 
that angels were long before this visible creation, was the opinion 
of many ancient fathers. To find out the truth of this prophecy ; 
and what to determine thereon, he refers to a full council. What 
ois associates thence attempt. Pandemonium, the palace oi Satan, 
rises suddenly built out of the deep : the infernal peers there sit 
in council. 

Of Man's first disobedience, 1 and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
Brought death into the world, and all our woe, 
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 

1 Milton has proposed the subject of his poem in the following 
verses These lines are perhaps as plain, simple, and unadorned, as 
any of the whole poem, in which particular the author has conformed 
himself to the example of Homer and the precept of Horace. His 
invocation to a work, which turns in a great measure upon the 






MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



\. 6— 20. 



Sing heavenly Muse, that on the secret 1 top 

Of Oreb, oi" of Sinai, didst inspire 

That shepherd, 2 who first taught the? chosen seed, 

In the beginning how the Heavens and Earth 

Rose out of Chaos : or if Sion hill 

Delight thee more, and Siloa's 3 brook that flowed 

Fast by the oracle of God, I thence 

Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song, 

That with no middle flight intends to soar 

Above the Aonia.n mount, 4 while it pursues 

Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. 

And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer 

Before all "temples the upright heart and pure, 

Instruct me, for Thou knowest ; Thou froni the first 

Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread 



#reation of the world, is very properly made to the muse who u>- 
•vpired Moses in those books from whence our author drew hi* 
subject, and to the Holy Spirit who is therein represented as operat- 
ing after a particular manner in the first production of nature. This 
evhole exordium rises very happily into noble language and sentiment, 
as I think the transition to the fable is exquisitely beautiful and 
natural. — Addison. 

1 Endless difficulties have been raised respecting this epithet, 
which, to us, seems perfectly clear and appropriate. The poet 
evidently refers to Horeb or Sinai (the two heights, be it remem- 
bered, of one mountain. See Calmet in voce, and Lepsius, Disco- 
veries in Egypt, note F, p. 44-i, sq.), as the place where the Almighty 
held conversation with Moses, when there was " a thick cloud upon 
v Jie mount" (Exod. xix. 16), and when the people were forbidden 
il to break through unto the Lord to gaze, lest they perish."— -Ct 
tii- 227. 

"God from the mount of Sinai, whose gray top 
Shall tremble, he descending." 

Jompare Bobinson, Biblical Besearches, v. i, p. 129 — " Our convic- 
tion was strengthened that here, or on some of the adjacent cliffs, was 
the spot where the Lord ' descended in fire,' and proclaimed the law 
Here lay the plain where the whole congregation might be assembled,' 
here was the mount that could be approached, if not forbidden ; and 
here the mountain's brow from where alone the lightnings and thick 
elnud would be visible, and the thunders and the voice of the tu;imp 
£e heard." 

2 Moses, Cf. Exod. hi. i. 

3 A small river near the temple of Jerusalem. — Cf. Is. viii. 6. 

4 i. e. above what other poets have attempted ; the Aoniac, 
Mount in Bceotia being popularly supposed to be the haunt of the 



n> 



j. i. 21-61. PARADISE LOST. 3 

Dove-like satst brooding 1 on the vast abyss, 
And made it pregnant : what in me is dark 
Illumine, -what is low raise and support ; 
That to the height of this great argument 
I may assert eternal Providence, 
And justify the ways of God to men. 

Say first, for Heaven hides nothing from thy vie^s, 
Nor the deep tract of Hell ; say first, what cause 
Moved our grand parents, in that happy state, 
Favoured of Heaven so highly, to fall off 
From their Creator, and transgress his will 
For one restraint, lords of the world besides ? 
Who first seduced them to that foul revolt ? 
Th' infernal Serpent ; he it was, whose guile, 
Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived 
The mother of mankind, what time his pride 
Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host 
Of rebel angels, by whose aid aspiring 
To set himself in glory above his peers, 
He trusted to have equalled the Most High, 
If he opposed ; and with ambitious aim 
Against the throne and monarchy of God 
Raised impious war in Heaven, and battle proud 
With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power 
Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, 
With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell 
In adamantine chains and penal fire, 
Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms. 
Nine times the space that measures day and night 
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew 
Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf, 
Confounded though immortal : but his doom 
Reserved him to more wrath ; for now the thought 
Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 
Torments him : round he throws his baleful eyes, 
That witnessed huge affliction and dismay 
Mixed with obdurate pride and stedfast hate : 
At once, as far as angels' ken, he views 
The dismal situation waste and wild ; 
A dungeon horrible on all sides round 

1 From Genesis i. 3, "And the Spirit of God brooJtd upon i3 
peters" (HehrenV 



•^H 



f — — 4* 

\ MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. b. i 62-77, 

As one great furnace flamed, yet from those flamec 

No light, hut rather darkness visible 1 

Served only to discover sights of woe, 

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 

And rest can never dwell, hope never comes 

That comes to all ; hut torture without end 

Still urges., and a fiery deluge, fed 

With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed : 

Such place eternal Justice had prepared 

For those rebellious, here their prison ordained 

In utter 2 daikness, and their portion set 

As far removed from God and light of Heaven, 

As from the centre thrice to the utmost pole. 3 

Oh, how unlike the place from whence they fell ! 

There the companions of Ms fall, o'erwhelmed 

With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, 



fr 



1 Milton seems to have used these words to signify gloom: absolute 
darkness is, strictly speaking, invisible ; but where there is a gloom 
only, there is so much light remaining as serves to show that there 
are objects, and yet that those objects cannot be distinctly seen. In 
this sense Milton seems to use the strong and bold expression, dark- 
ness visible.— Pearce. 

Seneca has a like expression, speaking of the Grotto of Pausilypo, 
Senec. Epist. lvii. "Nihil illo carcere longius, nihil illis faucibus ob- 
scurius, quae nobis praestant, non ut per tenebras videamus, sed ut 
ipsas. And, as Mons. Voltaire observes, Antonio de Solis, in his ex- 
cellent History of Mexico, has ventured on the same thought, when 
speaking of the place wherein Montezuma was wont to consult his 
deities ; " It was a large dark subterraneous vault, says he, where 
some dismal tapers afforded iust light enough to see the obscurity." 
See his Essay on Epic Poetry, p. 44. So, too. Spenser, F. Q. i. 1. 14. 

" A little glooming light, much like a shade." — Newton. 

" 2 Dr. Bentley reads outer here, and in many other places of thi. 
poem, because it is in scripture, togkotoq to IZwrepov, but utte< 
end outer are both the same word, differently spelled and pronounced. 
Milton, in the argument of this book, says, in a place of titter darkness, 
aii'l nowhere throughout *hepoem does the poet use outer. — Pearce. 

Spenser justifies the present reading by frequently using the word 
utter for outer, as in Faerie Queen, b. ii. cant. ii. st. 34 — 

M And inly grieve, as doth an hidden moth 
The inner garment fret, not the outer touch." — Nzivton. 

3 «'. e. thrice as far as it is from the centre of the earth (which is the 
centre of the world according to Milton's system, ix. 103, x. 671) to 
the pole of the world ; for it is the pole of the universe, far beyond th« 
pole of the earth, which is here cnlJed the " utmost polt."— -Newton, 



■ 1 ■-r -•■■ 



-, &, 



r 



¥*• 



b. i. 78-115. PARADISE LOST. 5 

He soon discerns, and weltering by his side 

One next himself in power, and next in crime, 

Long after known in Palestine, and named 

Beelzebub. 1 To whom the Arch-Enemy, 

And thence in Heaven called Satan, 2 with bold words 

Breaking the horrid silence thus began. 

" If thou beest he ; but oh, how fallen ! how changed 
From him, who in the happy realms of light 
Clothed with transcendent brightness didst outshine 
Myria Is though bright ! If he whom mutual league, 
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 
And hazard in the glorious enterprise, 
Joined with me once, now misery hath joined 
In 3 equal ruin : into what pit thou seest 
From what height fallen, so much the stronger provei. 
He with his thunder : and till then who knew 
The force of those dire arms ? yet not for those, 
Nor what the potent victor in Ms rage 
Can else inflict, do I repent 01 change , 
Though changed in outward lustre, that fixed mind, 
And high disdain from sense of injured merit, 
That with, the mightiest raised me to contend, 
And to the fierce contention brought along 
Innumerable force of spirits armed, 
That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring, 
His utmost power with adverse power opposed 
In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven, 
And shook his throne. What though the field be lost 
All is not lost ; the unconquerable will, 
And study of revenge, immortal hate, 
And coinage never to submit or yield, 
And what is else not to be overcome ; 
That glory never shall his wrath or might 
Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace 
With suppliant knee, and deify his power, 
Who frorn the terror of this arm so late 
Doubted his empire ; that were low indeed, 
That were an ignominy and shame beneath 

1 The lord of flies, an idol worshipped at Ecron, a city of the Phi 
llstines, 2 Kings i. 2. He is called " prince of the devils," Matt, xii, %i 
therefore deservedly here made second to Satan himself. — Hum*. 

2 Satan, in Hebrew, means an enemy. 

3 Bother, "and >iaal ruin," as Ceutley reads. 



L 



♦f* 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



I. 116— is». 



This downfall ; since by fate 1 the strength of gods 
And this empyreal substance cannot fail, 
Since through experience of this great event 
In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced, 
We may with more successful hope resolve 
To wage by force or guile eternal war, 
Irreconcileable to our grand foe, 
Who now triumphs, and in the excess of joy 
Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heaven." 

So spake the apostate angel, though in pain, 
daunting aloud, but racked with deep despair • 
And him thus answered soon his bold compeer. 

" O prince, chief of many throned powers, 
That led the embattled seraphim to war 
Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds 
Fearless, endangered Heaven's perpetual King, 
And put to proof his high supremacy, 
Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate , 
Too well I see and rue the dire event, 
That with sad overthrow and foul defeat 
Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host 
In horrible destruction laid thus low, 
As far as gods and heavenly essences 
Can perish : for the mind and spirit remains 
Invincible, and vigour soon returns, 
Though all our glory extinct, and happy state 
Here swallowed up in endless misery. 
But what if he our Conqueror (whom I now 
Of force believe almighty, since no less 
Than such could have o'erpowered such force as ours) 
Have left us this our spirit and strength entire 
Strongly to suffer and support our pains, 
That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, 
Or do him mightier service as his thralls 
By right of war, whate'er his business be, 
Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire, 

1 Satan supposes the angels to subsist by fate and necessity, and he 
presents them of an empyreal, that is & fiery substance, as the Scrip- 
re itself doth: "He maketh his angels spirits, and his ministers a 
ame of fire," Psalm civ. 4, Heb. i. 7. Satan disdains to submit, since 
the angels (as he says) are necessarily immortal, and cannot be de- 
stroyed, and smce, too, they are now improved inexperience, and may 
hope to carry on the war more successfully, notwithstanding the 
present toumph of their ad»^ary in Heaven. — Newtor 



♦f- 



b.i. 152-171. PARADISE LOST. 7 

Or do his errands in the gloomy deep , 

What can it then avail, though yet we feel 

Strength undiminished, or eternal "being 

To undergo eternal punishment ? " 

Whereto with speedy words the arch fiend replied 

" Fall'n cherub, to be weak is miserable 
Doing or suffering : but of this be sure, 
To do aught good never will be our task, 
But ever to do ill our sole delight, 
As being the contrary to his high will 
Whom we resist. If then his providence 
Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, 
Our labour must be to pervert that end, 
And out of good still to find means of evil ; 
Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps 
Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb 
His inmost counsels from their destined aim 
But see! the angry Victor hath recalled 
His ministers of vengeance 1 and pursuit 
Back to the gates of heaven : the sulphurous hail 

1 Dr. Bentley has really made a very material objection to this and 
some other passages of the poem, wherein the good angels are repre- 
sented as pursuing the rebel host with fire and thunderbolts down 
through Cbaos even to the gates of Hell ; as being contrary to the 
account which the angel Raphael gives to Adam in the Sixth Book. 
And it is certain that there the good angels are ordered to " stand still 
only and behold," and the Messiah alone expels them out of Heaven ; 
and after he has expelled them, and Hell has closed upon them, 
vi. 880— 

" Sole victor from the expulsion of his fo^s, 
Messiah his triumphal chariot turned : 
To meet him all his saints, who silent stood 
Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts, 
"With jubilee advanced." 

These accounts are plainly contrary the one to the other ; but the 
author does not therefore contradict himself, nor is one part of his 
scheme inconsistent with another. For it should be considered, wht 
are the persons that give these different accounts. In Book vi., 
the angel Raphael is the speaker, and therefore his account may be 
depended upon as the genuine and exact truth of the matter. But in 
the other passages Satan himself or some of his angels are the 
speakers ; and they were too proud and obstinate ever to acknow- 
ledge the Messiah for their conqueror ; as their rebellion was raised 
on his account, they would never own his superiority; they would 
rather ascribe their defeat to the whole kost of Heaven than to }dm 
tione ; or if they did indeed imagine their pursuers to be so many 



**&*■ 



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A 



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<& 



8 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 172-19* 

Shot after us in storm, overblown hath laid 

The fiery surge, that from the precipice 

Of Heaven received us failing ; and the thunder, 

Winged with red lightning and impetuous rage, 

Perhaps has spent his shafts, and ceases now 

To bellow through the vast and boundless deep. 

Let us not slip the occasion, whether scorn 

Or satiate fury yield it from our foe. 

Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 

The seat of desolation, void of light, 

Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 

Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend 

From off the tossing of these fiery waves, 

There rest, if any rest can harbour there, 

And re-assembling our afflicted powers, 

Consult how we may henceforth most offend 

Our enemy ; our own loss how repair ; 

How overcome this dire calamity ; 

What reinforcement we may gain from hope, 

Tf not, what resolution from despair." 

Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate, 
With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes 
That sparkling blazed ; his other parts besides 
Prone on the flood, extended long and large, 
Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge 
As whom the fables name of monstrous size, 
Titanian, or earth-born, that warred on Jove, 
Briareos, or Typhon, whom the den 

in number, their fears multiplied them, and it serves admin bly \a 
express how much they were terrified and confounded. In Book vi., 
830, the noise of his chariot is compared to the " sound of a nume- 
rous host ; " and perhaps they might think that a numerous host were 
really pursuing. In one place, indeed, we have Chaos speaking thus. 
ii. 996— 

" and Heaven gates 

Poured out by millions her victorious bands 

Pursuing." 
But what a condition was Chaos in during the fall of the rebel angela • 
See vi. 871— 

" Nine days they fell ; confounded Chaos roared, 

And felt tenfold confusion in their fall 

Through his wild anarchy, so huge a rout 

Incumbered him with ruin." 
We must suppose him therefore to speak according to his own frighted 
tod disturbed imagination. — Newton. 



4» 



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♦€*- 



b. i. 2 oo~22(5. PARADISE LOST. 9 

By ancient Tarsus held, 1 or that sea-beast 

Leviathan, 2 which God of all his works 

Created hugest that swim the ocean stream : 

Him, haply slumbering on the Norway foam, 

The pilot of some small night-foundered 3 skiff 

Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, 

W.th fixed, anchor in his scaly rind 

Moors by his side under the lee, while night 

Invests the sea, and wished morn delays : 

So stretched out huge in length the arch-fiend lay, 

Chained on the burning lake, nor ever thence 

Had risen or heaved his head, but that the will 

And high permission of all-ruling Heaven 

Left him at large to his own dark designs, 

That with reiterated crimes he might 

Heap on himself damnation, while he sought 

Evil to others, and enraged might see 

How all Iris malice served but to bring forth 

Infinite goodness, grace and mercy shown 

On man by him seduced ; but on himself 

Treble confusion, wrath and vengeance poured. 

Forthwith upright he rears, from off the pool, 

His mighty nature ; on each hand the flames, 

Driven backward, slope their pointing spires, and rolled 

In billows, leave i' the midst a horrid vale. 

Then with expanded wings he steers his flight 

Aloft, incumbent on the dusky ah' 4 

1 Typlion is the same with Typhoeus. That the den of Typhosus 
was in Cilicia, of which Tarsus was a celebrated city, we are told bj 
Pindar and Pornponius Mela. 

2 Milton seems to regard the leviathan as identical with the 
whale. The various and conflicting opinions on the subject are well 
detailed by Barnes on Job, xli. 1. General conclusion seems in 
favour of the crocodile. As far as Milton is concerned. I think he 
bad in mind the stories of the kraken, or some other gigantic speciea 
of cuttle-fish, which have been said to appear in the Norwegian seas 
The reader will call to mind the similar story in " Sinbad the Sailor.' 
See Lane's Arabian Nights. 

3 «. e. overtaken by night, and thereby hindered from proceeding. 

4 This conceit of the " air's feeling unusual weight " is borrowed from 
Spenser, who, speaking of the old dragon, says, b. i. cant. ii. st. 18— 

" Then with his waving wings displayed wide, 
Himself up high he lifted from the ground, 
And with strong flight did forcibly divide 
The yielding air, which nigh too feeble found 
Her flitting parts, and element unsound, 
To bear so great a weight." FA.#t*. 



4. 



■0* 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. 1.227^62 

That felt unusual weight, till on dry land 

He lights, if it were land that ever burned 

With solid, as the lake with liquid fire ; 

And such appeared in hue, as when the force 

Of subterranean wind 1 transports a hill 

Torn from Pelorus, 2 or the shattered side 

Of thundering Etna, whose combustible 

And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire, 

Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds, 

And leave a singed bottom all involved 

With stench and smoke : such resting found the sole 

Of unblest feet. Him followed his next mate, 

Both glorying to have 'scaped the Stygian flood 

As gods, and by their own recovered strength, 

Not by the sufferance of supernal power. 

" Is this the region, this the soil, the clime," 
Said then the lost archangel, " this the seat 
That we must change for Heaven, this mournful gioom 
For that celestial light ? Be it so, since he 
Who now is Sovran 3 can dispose and bid 
What shall be right : farthest from him is best, 
Whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme 
Above his equals. Farewell happy fields 
Where joy for ever dwells ! Hail horrors, hail 
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell 
Receive thy new possessor ; one who brings 
A mind not to be changed by place or time. 
The mind is its own place, 4 and in itself 
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven. 
What matter where, if I be still the same, 
And what I should be, all but 5 less than he 
Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least 
We shall be free ; the Almighty hath not built 
Here for bis envy, will not drive us hence : 
Here we may reign secure, and in my choice 
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell • 



1 Rather read "winds," withPearce. 

2 The Cape di Faro, a promontory of Sicily, about a mile and a 
half from Italy. — See Virg. Mn. iii. 6 and 7. 

3 So Milton rightly spells it, according to its derivation from the 
Italian sovrano. 

4 These are some of the Stoical extravagances, placed by Milton in 
ilie mouth of Satan, by way of ridicule. 

5 Some read " albeit." 



"4* 



|pf+*+. 



^ 



8,1.263-289. PARADISE LOST. 11 

Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven 
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, 
The -associates and copartners of our loss, 
Lie thus astonished on the oblivious pool, 
And call them not to share with us their part 
In this unhappy mansion, or once more, 
With rallied arms, to try what may be yet 
Regained in Heaven, or what more lost m Hell ? * 

So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub 
Thus answered. "Leader of those armies bright. 
Which but the Omnipotent none could have foiled. 
If once they hear that voice, then liveliest pledge 
Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft 
In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge l 
Of battle when it raged, in all assaults 
Cheir surest signal, they will soon resume 
New corn-age and revive, though now they lie 
Grovelling and prostrate on yon lake of fire, 
As we ere while, astounded and amazed : 
No wonder, fallen such a pernicious height." 

He scarce had ceased when the superior fiend 
Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield, 
Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, 
Behind him cast ; the broad circumference 
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb 
Through optic glass 2 the Tuscan artist views 
At evening from the top of Fesole, 

: From the Latin acies, which signifies both the edge of a weapon 
and an army drawn up in battle array. Or we may, with Newtoa, 
compare 2 Henry IV. act i. — 

" You knew, he walked o'er perils, on an edga 
More likely to fall in than to get o'er." 

And 1 Henry IV. act L— 

" I'll read you matter, deep and dangerous; 
As fuU. of peril and adventurous spirit, 
As to o'erwalk a current, roaring loud, 
On the unstedfast footing of a spear. 
Hot. If he fall in, good night, or sink or swim." 
3 The shield of Satan was large as the moon seen through a tele- 
scope, an instrument first applied to celestial observations by Galileo, 
a native of Tuscany, whom he means here by " the Tuscan artist,' 1 
tnd afterwards mentions byname in v. 262 ; a testimony of his honour 
for so great a man, whom he had known and visited in Italy, as 
Uimsfelf informs us ia his " Areopagitica." — Newton. 



*ih 



4- 



12 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 290-307. 

Or in Valdarno, 1 to descry new lands, 

Rivers, or mountains in her spotty globe. 

His spear, to equal which the tallest pine 

Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast 2 

Of some great ammiral, 3 were but a wand, 

He walked with to support uneasy steps 

Over the burning marl, not like those steps 

On Heaven's azure, and the torrid clime 

Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire ; 

Nathless he so endured, till on the beach 

Of that inflamed sea he stood, and called 

His legions, angel forms, who lay entranced 

Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 

In Vallombrosa, 4 where the Etrurian shades 

High over-arched imbower ; or scattered sedge 

Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion 5 armed 

Hath vexed the Eed Sea coast, whose waves o'erthrew 

Busiris 6 and his Memphian chivalry, 7 

1 j. e. the valley of the Arno, in Tuscany. 

8 " These sons of Mavors bore (instead of spears), 
Two knotty masts which none but they could lift." 

Fairfax's Tasso, vi. 40. 

3 According to its German extraction, amiral, or amirael, says 
Hume ; from the Italian ammiraglio, says Eichardson, more probably 
Our author made choice of this, as thinking it of a better sound than 
admiral : and in Latin he writes, ammiralatus curia, the court ol 
admiralty. 

4 A valley of Tuscany, remarkable for its cool and delightful 
shades. 

5 Orion is a constellation represented in the figure of an armed 
man, and supposed to be attended with stormy weather, assurgens 
fluctu nimbosus Orion, Virg. Mn. i. 539. And the Red Sea abounds 
so much with sedge, that in the Hebrew Scripture it is called the 
Sedgy Sea. And he says "hath vexed the Red Sea coast" particu 
larly, because the wind usually drives the sedge in great quantities 
towards the shore. — Newton. 

6 There is no historical authority for making Pharaoh Busiris ; but 
Milton was at liberty to borrow a common tradition respecting thut 
king, and adapt it to his verse. 

7 Chivalry (from the French chevalerie) signifies not only knight- 
hood, but those who use horses in fight, both such as ride on horses 
and such as ride in chariots drawn by them. In tbe sense of riding 
and fighting on horseback this word chivalry is used in verse 7G5, and 
in many places of Fairfax's Tasso, as in Cant. 5, st. 9. Cant. 8. st. 67. 
Cant. 20. st. 61. In the sense of riding and fighting in chariots drawn 
by horses, Milton uses the word chivalry in Farad. Reg. iii. ver. 848 
■compared with ver. 328. — Pearce. 



•&* 



*• 



♦fg* KJJ 

b. i. 30S-346. PARADISE LOST. 13 

While with perfidious hatred 1 they pursued 

The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld 

From the safe shore their floating carcasses 

And broken chariot wheels : so thick bestrown, 

Abject and lost, lay these, covering the flood, 

Under amazement of then hideous change. 

He called so loud, that all the hollow deep 

Of Hell resounded. " Princes, potentates. 

Warriors, the flower of Heaven, once yours, now lost, 

If such astonishment as this can seize 

Eternal spirits ; or have ye chosen this place 

After the toil of battle to repose 

Your wearied virtue, for the ease ye find 

To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven ? 

Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 

To adore the Conqueror ? who now beholds 

Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood 

With scattered arms and ensigns, till anon 

His swift pursuers from Heaven gates discern 

The advantage, and descending tread us down 

Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts 

Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf. 

Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen ! " 

They heard, and were abashed, and up they sprung 
Upon the wing, as when men, wont to watch 
On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread, 
Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. 
Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 
In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel , 
Yet to their general's voice they soon obeyed 
Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
Of Ami-am' s son, 2 in Egypt's eviJ day, 
Waved round the coast, up called a pitchy cloud 
Of locusts, warping 3 on the eastern wind, 
That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung 
Like night, and darkened all the land of Nile : 
So numberless were those bad angels seen 
Hovering on wing under the cope of Hell 
'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires ; 

1 Because Pharaoh, after leave given to the Israelites to depart, ?ol 
.owed after them like fugitives. — Hume. 
3 See Exod. x. 13, sqq. 
s Working themse?7es forward : a sea phraso. 



4 



ih 



♦A* , _ A 

t\ MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 347-367. 

Till, at a signal given, the uplifted spear 

Of their great sultan waving to direct 

Their course, in even balance down they light 

On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain ; 

A multitude, like which the populous north l 

Poured never from her frozen loins, to pass 

Ehene or the Danaw, when her barbarous sons 

Came like a deluge on the south, and spread 

Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands. 

Forthwith from every squadron and each band 

The heads and leaders thither haste where stood 

Their great commander ; godlike shapes and formt 

Excelling human, princely dignities, 

And powers that erst in Heaven sat on thrones ; 

Though of their names ir> ' eavenly records now 

Be no memorial, blotted out and rased 

By their rebellion from the books of life 

Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve 

Got them new names, till wandering o'er the earth, 

Through God's high sufferance, for the trial of man, 

By falsities and lies the greatest part 

1 This comparison does not fall below the rest, as some have 
imagined. They were thick as the leaves, and numberless as the 
locusts, but such a multitude the north never poured forth; and v<? 
may observe that the subject of this comparison rises very much abore 
the others, leaves and locusts. The populous north, as the northern 
parts of the world are observed to be more fruitful of people than th* 
hotter countries: Sir William Temple calls it "the northern hive."' 
" Poured never," a very proper word to express the inundations of these 
northern nations. " From her frozen loins ; " it is the Scripture ex- 
pression of children and descendants " coming out of the loins," as 
Gen. xxxv. 11, "Kings shall come out of thy loins;" and these are 
called frozen loins only on account of the coldness of the climate. 
" To pass Ehene or the Danaw." He might have said, consistently 
with his verse, The Khine or Danube, but he chose the more uncom- 
mon names, Ehene, of the Latin, and Danaw, of the German, both 
which words are lsed too in Spenser. " When her barbarous sons,'" 
&c. They were truly barbarous ; for besides exercising several cruel- 
ties, they destroyed all the monuments cf learning and politeness 
wherever they came. " Came like a deluge." Spenser, describing 
the same people, has the same simile. Faerie Queen, B. ii. cant. 1 , 
st. 15. 

" And overflowed all countries far away. 
Like Noye's great flood, with their importune sway." 



They were the Goths, and Huns, and Vandals, who cveiran all the 
southern provinces of Europe. — Newton, 



*4> 



b.i. 368-392. PARADISE LOST. 15 

Of mankind they corrupted to forsake 

God their Creator, and the invisible 

Glory of him that made them to transform 

Oft to the image of a brute, adorned 

With gay religions full of pomp and gold, 

And devils to adore for deities ; 

Then were they known to men by various nan.es, 

And various idols through the heathen world. 

Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, who last, 
Roused from the slumber, on that fiery couch, 
At their great emperor's call, as next in worth 
Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, 
While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 
The chief were those who from the pit of Hell, 
Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix 
Their seats long after next the seat of God, 
Their altars by his altar, God's adored 
Among the nations round, and durst abide 
Jehovah thundering out of Sio-n, throned 
Between the cherubim ; l yea, oik.2: placed 
Within his sanctuary itself their shrines, 2 
Abominations ; and with cursed things 
His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned, 
And with their darkness durst affront his light. 
First Moloch, 3 horrid king besmeared with blood 

1 The ark of the covenant was placed between the golden cherubim. 
Compare 2 Kings xix. 15, " O Lord God of Israel, which dwellest 
between the cherubim." 

2 See 2 Kings xxi. 4 ; Jer. vii. 30 ; Ezek. vii. 20, viii. 5, sq. 

3 The name Moloch signifies king, and he is called "horrid" king, 
because of the human sacrifices which were made to Mm Tbis idol 
is supposed by some to be the same as Saturn, to whom the heathens 
(especially the Carthaginians, See Porphyr. de Abstin. ii. 27.) sacri- 
ficed their children, and by others to be the sun. "When it is said in 
Scripture that the children " passed through the fire to Moloch," we 
must not understand that they always actually burnt their children in 
Voncur of this idol, but sometimes made them only leap over the 
tames, or pass nimbly between two fires, to purify them by that lus- 
tration, and consecrate them to this false deity. He was tbe god of 
the Ammonites, and is called " the abomination of the children of 
Ammon," 1 Kings xi. 7, and was worshipped in Kabba, their capital 
city, which David conquered. This Rabba being called the " city ol 
waters," 2 Sam. xi. 27, it is here said, " Eabba ^nd her watery plain ; " 
and, likewise, " in Argob and in Basan," neighbouring countries to 
Rabba, and subject to the Ammonites, as far as " to the stream of 
utmost Arnon." which ?iyer was the boundary of their country on 
the with. — N aw ton. 



16 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 393-419. 

Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears, 
Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud 
Their children's cries unheard, that passed through fire 
To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 
Worshipped in Rabba and her watery plain. 
In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 
Of utmost Anion. Nor content with sueh 
Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart 
Of Solomon he led by fraud to build 
His temple right against the temple of God 
On that opprobrious hill, 1 and made his grove 
The pleasant valley of Hmnom, Tophet thence 
And black Gehenna called, the type of Hell. 
Next Chemos, 2 the obscene dread of Moab's sons 
From Aroar to Nebo, and the wild 
Of southmost Abarim ; in Hesebon 
And Horonaim, Seon's realm, beyond 
The flowery dale of Sibnia clad with vines, 
And Eleale to the Asphaltic pool. 
Peor his other name, when he enticed 
Israel in Sittim on their march from Nile 
To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe 
Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged 
Even to that hill of scandal, 3 by the grove 
Of Moloch homicide, lust hard by hate ; 
Till good Josiah 4 drove them thence to Hell. 
With these came they, who from the bordering flood 

1 Solomon built a temple to Moloch on the Mount of Olives (1 
Kings xi. 7), therefore called " that opprobrious hill ; " and high place* 
and sacrifices were made to him " in the pleasant valley of Hinnom," 
Jer.vii. 31, which lay south-east of Jerusalem, and was called likewise 
Tophet, from the Hebrew, ioph, a drum ; drums and such like noisy 
instruments being used to drown the cries of the miserable children 
who were offered to this idol; and Gehenna, or " the valley of Hin- 
nom," is in several places of the New Testament, and by our Saviour 
himself, made the name and type of Hell, by reason of the fire that was 
kept up there to Moloch, and of the horrid groans and outcries of 
human sacrifices. — Newton. 

2 God of the Moabites, 1 Kings xi. 7. 

3 His high places were adjoining to those of Moloch, on the Mounf 
of Olives, therefore called here " that hill of scandal," as before " that 
opprobrious hill," for " Solomon did build an high place for Chemosh. 
the abomination of Moab, in the hill that is before Jerusalem, and fol 
Moloch, the abomination of the children of Amnion," 1 Kings* xi. 7. 

* 2 Kings xxiii. 13 t so,. 



b.i. 420-446- PARADISE LOST. 17 

Of old 1 Euphrates to the brook that parts 

Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 

Of Baalim and Ashtaroth, 2 those male, 

These feminine. For spirits when they please 

Can either sex assume, or both; so soft 

And uncompounded is their essence pure, 

Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, 

Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, 

Like cumbrous flesh ; but in what shape they choose, 

Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, 

Can execute their airy purposes, 

And works of love or enmity fulfil. 

For those the race of Israel oft forsook 

Their living strength, and unfrequented left 

His righteous altar, bowing lowly down 

To bestial gods ; for which their heads as low 

Bowed down in battle, sunk before the spear 

Of despicable foes. With these in troop 

Came Astoreth 3 whom the Phoenicians called 

Astarte, Queen of Heaven, with crescent horns ; 

To whose bright image nightly by the moon 

Sidonian virgins paid then- vows and songs, 

In Sion also not unsung, where stood 

Her temple on the offensive mountain, built 

By that uxorious king, whose heart, though large. 

Beguiled by fail- idolatresses, fell 

To idols foul. Thammuz 4 came next behind, 

1 Because this river is mentioned in the earliest records of time. — 
See Gen. ii. 14. 

2 Probably the sun and the "host of heaven." 

3 The goddess of the Phoenicians, and the moon was adored under 
this name. She is rightly said to "come in troop " with Ashtaroth, as 
she was one of them, the moon with the stars. Sometimes she is 
called " queen of heaven," Jer. vii. 18, and xliv. 17, 18. She is like- 
wise called "the goddess of the Zidonians," 1 Kings xi. 5, " and the 
abomination of the Zidonians," 2 Kings xxiii. 13., as she was wor- 
shipped very much in Zidon or Sidon, a famous city of the Phoeni 
ciaus, situated upon the Mediterranean. — Newton. 

4 The account of Thammuz is finely romantic, and suitable to what 
we read among the ancients of the worship which was paid to that 
Idol. Maundrell gives the following account of this ancient piece of 
worship, and probably the first occasion of such a superstition. " We 
eame to a fair large river — doubtless the ancient river Adonis, so famous 
for the idolatrous rites performed here in lamentation of Adonis. We 
had the fortune to see what may be supposed to be the occasion of 
Vhat opinion which Lucian relates, viz., that this stream, at certaiu 

*& * — « — — — — — — **. — *— — — >>^u 



1 8 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 8.1.447-470. 

Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured 

The Syrian damsels to lament his fate 

In amorous ditties all a summer's day, 

While smooth Adonis from Ms native rock 

Ean purple to the sea, supposed with blood 

Of Thammuz yearly wounded : the love-tale 

Infected Sion's daughters with like heat, 

Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch 

Ezekiel l saw, when by the vision led 

His eye surveyed the dark idolatries 

Of alienated Judah. Next came one 

Who mourned in earnest, when the captive ark 

Maimed his brute image head and hands lopped cif 

In his own temple, en the grunsel edge, 2 

Where he fell flat, and shamed his worshippers : 

Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man 

And downward fish : 3 yet had his temple high 

Reared in Azotus, dreaded through the coast 

Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon, 

And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. 

Him followed EimmoL., 4 whose delightful seat 

Was fair Damascus, on tl« fertile banks 

Of Abbana and Pharphar, lu>id streams. 

He also 'gainst the house of God was bold : 

seasons of the year, especially about the feast of Adonis, is of a bloody 
colour, which the heathens looked upon as proceeding from a kind oi 
sympathy in the river for the death of Adonis, who was killed by a 
wild boar in the mountains, out of which this stream rises. Some- 
thing like this we saw actually come to pass ; for the water was 
stained to a surprising redness , and as we observed in travelling, had 
discoloured the sea a great way into a reddish hue, occasioned, doubt- 
less, by a sort of minium, or red earth, washed into the river by the 
violence of the rain, and. not by any stain from Adonis's blood." — 
Addison. 

Thammuz was the god of the Syrians, the same with Adonis, who, 
according to the traditions, died every year and revived again. He 
was slain by a wild boar in Mount Lebanon, from whence tiie river 
Adonis descends ; and when this river began to be of a reddish hue, 
r>s it did at a certain season of the year, this was their signal for cele- 
brating their Adonia, or feasts of Adonis, and the women made loud 
lamentations for him, supposing the river was discoloured with his 
blood. — Newton. 

1 See Ezek. viii. 13, sq. 

9 i. e. the threshold. See 1 Sam. v. 4. 

3 See Layard's Nineveh, vol. ii. p. 467, note; and Caiiaet, p 2U5 
o^ my edition. 

4 Bimmon was a god of the Syrian j. 



iy— 



*t>" 



1 Naaman, who, on account of his cure, resolved henceforth to " offe^ 
neither burnt-offering nor sacrifice to any other god, but unto the 
Lord," 2 Kings v. 17. 

2 Great, however, as was the sin of the Israelites in setting up these 
calves, it has been well observed by Dean Graves (on the Pentateuch) 
part iii. lect. ii., that " such relapses into idolatry never implied & re- 
jection of Jehovah as their God, or of the Mosaic law, as if they 
doubted its truth. The Jewish idolatry consisted, first, in wot ship- 
ping the true God by symbols ; but, in every one of these instances, 
far from rejecting Jehovah as their God, the images, symbols, and 
rites employed were designed to honour him, by imitating the manner 
iu which the most distinguished nations the Jews were acquainted 
with worshipped their divinities." 

3 Alluding to the worship of Amnion under the form of a ram 

C 



b. i. 471-501. PARADISE LOST. 19 

A leper once he lost, 1 and gained a king, 

Ahaz his sottish conqueror, whom he drew 

God's altar to disparage and displace 

For one of Syrian mode, whereon to bum 

His odious offerings, and adore the gods 

Whom he had vanquished. After these appeared 

A crew who, under names of old renown, 

Osiris, Isis, Orus, and their train, 

With monstrous shapes and sorceries ahused 

Fanatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 

Their wandering gods disguised in brutish forms 

Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape 

The infection, when their borrowed gold composed 

The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king 

Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 2 

Likening his Maker to the grazed ox ; 

Jehovah, who in one night when he passed 

From Egypt marching, equalled with one stroke 

Both her first-bom and all her bleating gods. 3 

Belial came last, than whom a spirit more lewd 

Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love 

Vice for itself: to him no temple stood 

Or altar smoked ; yet who more oft than he 

In temples and at altars, when the priest 

Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who filled 

With lust and violence the house of God ? 

In courts and palaces he also reigns 

And in luxurious cities, where the noise 

Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, 

And injury and outrage : and when night 

Darkens the streets, then wander forth ths 90ns 



.„■> 



♦4)N : ■ >&+ 

20 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 502-524. 

Of Belial, 1 flown 2 with insolence and wine. 



Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night 

In Gibeah. when the hospitable door 

Exposed a matron 3 to avoid worse rape. 

These were the prime in order and in might ; 

The rest were long to tell, though far renowned, 

The Ionian gods, 4 of Javan's issue ; held 

Gods, yet confessed later than Heaven and Earth, 

Their boasted parents; Titan, Heaven's first-born, 

With his enormous brood, and birthright seized 

"By younger Saturn; he from mightier Jove, 

His own and Rhea's son, like measure found; 

So Jove usurping reigned; these first in Crete 

And Ida known, thence on the snowy top 

Of cold Olympus ruled the middle air, 

Their highest Heaven ; or on the Delphian cliff, 

Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 

Of Doric land; or who with Saturn old 

Fled over Adria to the Hesperian fields, 

And o'er the Celtic roamed the utmost isles 

All these and more came nocking ; but with looks 
Downcast and damp, yet such wherein appeared 
Obscure some glimpse of joy, to have found their chief 

1 See Calmet, p. 141, of my edition. 

2 i. e. heightened, excited. 

3 Gen. xix. 8. 

4 Javan, the fourth son of Japhet, is supposed to have settled in 
the south-west part of Asia Minor, about Ionia, which contains the 
radical letters of his name. His descendants were the Ionians and 
Grecians ; and the principal of their gods were Heaven and Earth. 
Titan was their eldest son ; he was father of the giants, and his empire 
was seized by his younger brother Saturn, as Saturn's was by Jupiter, 
son of Saturn and Ehea. These first were known in the island Crete, 
\ow Candia, in which is Mount Ida, where Jupiter is said to have 
been born ; thence passed over into Greece, and resided on Mount 
Olympus, in Thessaly ; "the snowy top of cold Olympus," as Homer 
calls it, which mountain afterwards became the name of Heaven 
among their worshippers ; " or on the Delphian cliff," Parnassus, 
whereon was seated the city Delphi, famous for the temple and oracle 
of Apollo; "or in Dodona," a city and wood adjoining, sacred to 
Jupiter ; " and through all the bounds of Doric land," that is, of 
Greece, Doris being a part of Greece; "or fled over Adria," the 
Adriatic, "to the Hesperian fields," to Italy ; "and o'er the Celtic," 
France and the other countries overrun by the Celtes, " roamed the 
utmost isles," Great Britain, Ireland, the Orkneys, Thule, or Iceland, 
v Ultima Thule," as it is called, the utmost boundary of the world. — 
Wwton, 



^ ^ 



f» 



— i j* 



b. i. 525-558. PARADISE IOST. 

Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost 
In loss itself; which on his countenance cast 
Like doubtful hue ; hut he his wonted pride 
Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore 
Semblance of worth not substance, gently raised 
Their fainting coinage, and dispelled their fears. 
Then straight commands that at the warlike sound 
Of trumpets loud and clarions 1 be upreared 
His mighty standard ; that proud honour claimed 
Azazel, 2 as his right, a cherub tall, 
Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurled 
The imperial ensign, which, full high advanced. 
Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind, 
With gems and golden lustre rich emblazed, 
Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while 
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds ; 
At which the universal host up sent 
A shout, that tore Hell's concave, and beyond 
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 
.All in a moment through the gloom were seen 
Ten thousand banners rise into the air 
With orient colours waving ; with them rose 
A forest huge of spears, 3 and thronging helms 
Appeared, and serried 4 shields in thick array 
Of depth immeasurable ; anon they move 
In perfect phalanx to the Dorian 5 mood 
Of flutes and soft recorders ; such as raised 
To height of noblest temper heroes old 
Arming to battle, and instead of rage 
Deliberate valour breathed, firm and unmoved 
With dread of death to flight or foul retreat; 
Nor wanting power to mitigate and 'suage 
With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase 
Anguish and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain, 

1 Small, shrill, treble trumpets. 

2 Not the scapegoat, but some demon. 

3 So Tasso, describing the Christian and Pagan armies preparing 
to engage, Cant. 20, st. 28. 

" Of dry-topped oaks they seemed two forests thick ; 
So did each host with spears and pikes abound." 

Fair/ax. Tr ym. 

4 i. e. locked closely together. 

8 i. e. grave or serious, such being the cbaracteristic of Lkria? 
harmony. 



^_ — — - — , 4* 



m3 | 



22 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 559-576. 

From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, 
Breathing united force, with fixed thought, 
Moved on in silence to soft pipes, that charmed 
Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil ; and new 
Advanced in view they stand, a horrid front 
Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise 
Of warriors old with ordered spear and shield, 
Awaiting what command their mighty chief 
Had to impose. He through the armed files 
Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse 
The whole battalion views, their order due, 
Their visages and stature as of gods; 
Their number last he sums. And now his heart 
Distends with pride, and hardening in his strength 
Glories; for never since created man, 
Met such embodied force, as, named with these, 
Could merit more than that small infantry 
Warred on by cranes; ' though all the giant brood 

1 All the heroes and armies that ever were assembled were no mora 
than pigmies in comparison with these angels ; " though all the 
giant brood of Phlegra," a city of Macedonia, where the giants fought 
with the gods, " with the heroic race were joined that fought at 
Thebes," a city of Boeotia, famous for the war between the sons of 
CEdipus, celebrated by Statius in his Thebaid, " and Ilium," made 
still more famous by Homer's Iliad, where " on each side" the 
heroes were assisted by the gods, therefore called " auxiliar gods ; 
and what resounds" even " in fable or romance of Uther's son," king 
Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, whose exploits are romantically ex- 
tolled by Geoffry of Monmouth, " begirt with British and Armorie 
knights," for he was often in alliance with the king of Armorica, since 
sailed Bretagne, of the Britons who settled there ; " and all who since 
; ousted in Aspramont, or Montalban," romantic names of places 
t mentioned in Orlando Furioso, the latter, perhaps, Montauban in 
France, " Damasco or Marocco," Damascus or Morocco, but he calls 
them as they are called in romances; " or Trebisond," a city of Cappa- 
docia, in the Lesser Asia; all these places are famous in romances, 
for joustings between the " baptized and infidels; or whom Biserta," 
formerly called Utica, "sent from Afric shore," that is, the Saracens 
who passed from Biserta, in Africa, to Spain, " when Charlemagne 
with all his peerage fell by Fontarabia," Charlemagne, king of France 
and emperor of Germany, about the year 800, undertook a war 
against the Saracens in Spain ; and Mariana and the Spanish his- 
torians aro Milton's authors for saying that he and his army were 
routed, in this manner at Fontarabia (which is a strong town in 
Biscay at the very entrance into Spain, and esteemed the key of the 
kingdom) ; but Mezeray and the French writers give a quite different 
and mone probable account of him, that he was at last victorious over 
Itir enemico and died in peace. — Newton. 



f 4 






h 



b.i. 577-617. PARADISE LOST. v s 

Of Plilegra with the heroic race were joined J * 

That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side 

Mixed with auxiliar gods ; and what resounds 

In fable or romance of Uther's son 

Begirt with British and Armoric knights, 

And all who since, baptized or infidel, 

Jousted in Aspramont or Montalban, m 

Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, 

Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore, 

When Charlemagne with all his peerage fell 

By Fontarabia. Thus far these beyond 

Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed 

Their dread commander ; he above the rest 

In shape and gesture proudly eminent 

Stood like a tower; his form had yet not lost 

All its original brightness, nor appeared 

Less than archangel ruined, and the excess 

Of glory obscured ; as when the sun new risen 

Looks through the horizontal misty air 

Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon 

In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds 

On half the nations, and with fear of change 

Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone 

Above them all the archangel ; but his face 

Deep scars of thunder had entrenched, and care 

Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows 

Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride 

Waiting revenge ; cruel his eyes, but cast 

Signs of remorse and passion to behold 

The fellows of his crime, the followers rather 

jFar other once beheld in bliss) condemned 

For ever now to have their lot in pain, 

Millions of spirits for his fault amerced l 

Of Heaven, and from eternal splendours flung 

For his revolt ; yet faithful how they stood 

Their glory withered : as when Heaven's fire 

Hath scathed 2 the forest oaks, or mountain pines, 

With singed top their stately growth, though bare, 

Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepared 

To speak ; whereat their doubled ranks they bend 

From wing to wing, and half enclose him round 

1 Deprived, robbed of, tuken away froro. 

2 Hurt, injured. 



Hir* 



4- 



4* 



24 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 6i8-6 4 3. 

With all his peers : attention held them mute. 
Thrice he assayed, and thrice, in spite of scorn, 
Tears, such as angels weep, 1 hurst forth : at last 
Words interwove with sighs found out their way. 

" O myriads of immortal spirits ! powers 
Matchless hut with the Almighty ; and that strife 
Was not inglorious, though the event was dire. 
As this place testifies, and this dire change, 
Hateful "to utter : but what power of mind 
Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth 
Of knowledge past or present, could have feared, 
How such united force of gods, how such 
As stood like these, could ever know repulse ? 
For who can yet believe, though after loss, 
That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
Hath emptied Heaven, 2 shall fail to reascend 
Self-raised, and repossess their native seat? 
For me be witness all the host of Heaven, 
If counsels different, or danger shunned 
By me, have lost our hopes. But He who reigiifl 
Monarch in Heaven, till then as one secure 
Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute, 
Consent or custom, and his regal state 
Put forth at full, but still his strength concealed, 
Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. 
Henceforth his might we know, and know our own, 
So as not either to provoke, or dread 
New war, provoked ; our better part remains 
To work in close design, by fraud or guile, 
What force effected not: that he no less 
\.t length from us may find, who overcome? 

'* T ears, such as angels weep," like Homer's iclior of the gods, 
whii'/a wis different from the blood of mortals. This weeping of 
Satan on surveying his numerous host, and the thoughts of their 
wretched state, puts one in mind of the story of Xerxes weeping on 
seeing his vast army, and reflecting that they were mortal, at the 
* ; ime that he was hastening them to their fate, and to the intended 
destruction of the greatest people in the world, to gratify his own 
vain glory.— Newton. 

2 It is conceived that a third part of the angels fell with Satan, 
according to Rev. xii. 4. : " And his tail drew the third part of the 
stars of Heaven, and cast them to the earth;" and this opinion 
Milton has expressed in several pbces, ii. 692, v. 710, vi. 156; but 
Satan here talks big and magnifies Uieir number, as if their " exile 
bad emptied Heaven." 



♦4V-, 



4- 



T 



*©* 



b. i. 649-67*. PARADISE LOST. 2$ 

By force, hath overcome but half his foe. 
Space may produce new worlds ; whereof to risa 
There went a fame in Heaven that he ere long 
Intended to create, and therein plant 
A generation, whom his choice regard 
Should favour equal to the sons of Heaven 
Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps 
Our first eruption : thither or elsewhere ; 
For this infernal pit shall never hold 
Celestial spirits in bondage, nor the abyss 
Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts 
Full counsel must mature : peace is despaired, 
For who can think submission? War, then, war, 
Open or understood, must be resolved." 

He spake ; and to confirm his words, out flew 
Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs 
Of mighty cherubim; the sudden blaze 
Far round illumined Hell : highly they raged 
Against the highest, and fierce with grasped arms 1 
Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war, 
Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heaven. 

There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 
Belched fire and rolling smoke ; the rest entire 
Shone with a glossy scurf, undoubted sign 
That in his womb 2 was hid metallic ore. 
The work of sulphur. 3 Thither, winged with speed, 
A numerous brigade hastened : as when bands 
Of pioneers with spade and pickaxe armed 
Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, 
Or cast a rampart. Mammon 4 led them on, 

1 The known custom of the Roman soldiers, when they applauded 
% speech of their general, was to smite their shields with theii 
swords. — Benlley. 

2 This word is constantly used in the masculine gender by Chaucer. 

3 For metals are supposed to consist of two essential parts or 
principles ; mercury, as the basis or metallic matter; and sulphur a* 
\he binder or cement, which fixes the fluid mercury into a coherent 
toalleable mass. And so Ben Jonson in the " Alchemist," act. ii. 
6cene 3. : — 

" It turns to sulphur, or to quicksilver, 
Who are the parents of all other metals." — Newton. 

4 This name is Syriac, and signifies riches. " Ye cannot serve 
God and Mammon," says our Saviour, Matt. vi. 24. and bids us 
v make to ourselves friends of the Mammon of unrighteousness,' 
Luke xvi. 9. — Newton. 



4. 



m 144- 



T 



*®+ 



26 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 679-714- 

Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell 

From Heaven, for even in Heaven his looks and thought'. 

Were always downward bent, admiring more 

Hie richest of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold. 

Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed 

In vision beatific : by him first 

Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 

Ransacked the centre, and with impious hands 

Rifled the bowels of their mother earth 

For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew 

Opened into the hill a spaciotis wound, 

And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire 

That riches grow in Hell ; that soil may best 

Deserve the precious bane. And here let those 

Who boast in mortal things, and wondering tell 

Of Babel and the works of Memphian kings, 

Learn how their greatest monuments of fame 

And strength and art are easily outdone 

By spirits reprobate, and in an hour 

What in an age they with incessant toil 

And hands innumerable * scarce perform. 

Nigh on the plain in many cells prepared, 

That underneath had veins of liquid fire 

Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude 

With wondrous art founded the massy ore, 

Severing each kind, and scummed the bullion dross : f « 

A third as soon had formed within the ground 

A various mould, and from the boiling cells 

By strange conveyance filled each hollow nook, 

As in an organ 3 from one blast of wind 

To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes 

Anon out of the earth a fabric huge 

Rose like an exhalation, with the sound 

Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, 

Built like a temple, where pilasters round 

Were set, and Boric pillars overlaid 

1 There were 360,000 men employed for nearly twenty years upon 
a single pyramid. 

'"Bullion is here an adjective. The sense is: " they founded ot 
netted the ore that was in the mass, by separating or severing each 
kind, that is, the sulphur, earth, &c, from the metal; and after that 
iiey scummed the dross that floated on the top of the burning ore." — 
Pearce. 

* On which instrument Milton was himself a perforvui. 



b. i. 715-740. PARADISE LOST. 27 

With golden architrave ; nor did theiO want 

Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven ; 

The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, 

Nor great Alcairo 1 such magnificence 

Equalled in all their glories, to inshrine 

Belus or Serapis 2 their gods, or seat 

Then kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove 

In wealth and luxury. The ascending pile 

Stood fixed her stately height, and straight the doors 

Opening their brazen folds discover wide 

Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 

And level pavement : from the arched roof 

Pendent by subtle magic many a row 

Of starry lamps and blazing cressets 3 fed 

With naphtha and asphaltus yielded light 

As from a sky. The hasty multitude 

Admhing entered ; and the work some praise, 

And some the architect : his hand was known 

In Heaven by many a towered structure high, 

Where sceptred angels held their residence, 

And sat as princes, whom the Supreme King 

Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, 

Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright. 

Nor was his name unheard or unadored 

In ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian land 

Men called him Mulciber ; and how he fell 4 

1 This introduction of a modem name is rather clumsy. 

2 Belus the son of Nirnrod, second king of Babylon, and the first 
man worshipped for a god, by the Chaldeeans styled Bel, by the 
Phoenicians, Baal. Serapis, the same with Apis, the god of the 
E gyp tian s . — Hume. 

3 A cresset is any great blazing light, as a beacon. So Shakspeare 
Hen. IV. act. iii. : — 

" at my nativity 
The front of Heaven was full of fiery shapes, 
Of burning cressets." 

4 Compare nomer, II. i., where Vulcan (the same as PJulcibesr) 
describes his misfortune :— 

" Once in your cause I felt his matchless might, 
Hurled headlong downward, from the ethereal height 
Tost all the day in rapid circles round; 
Nor, till the sun descended, touched the ground ; 
Breathless I fell, in giddy motion lost ; 
The Siiithians raised me on the Lemnian coast."— Pop*. 



"*W* 



*w*- 



ir 



28 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b.i. 741-775. 

From Heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove 

Sheer o'er the crystal battlements ; from mora 

To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, 

A summer's day ; and with the setting sun 

Dropped from the zenith like a falling star, 

On Lemnos the iEgean isle : thus they relate, 

Erring ; for he with this rebellious rout 

Fell long before ; nor aught availed him now 

To have built in Heaven high towers ; nor did he 'scape 

By all his engines, 1 but was headlong sent 

With his industrious crew to build in Hell. 

Meanwhile the winged heralds by command 
Of sovereign power, with awful ceremony 
And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim 
A solemn council forthwith to be held 
At Pandemonium, the high capital 
Of Satan and his peers : their summons called 
From every band and squared regiment 
By place or choice the worthiest ; they anon 
With hundreds and with thousands trooping came 
Attended: all access was thronged, the gates 
And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall 
(Though like a covered field, where champions bold 
Wont ride in armed, and at the Soldan's chair 
Defied the best of Panim 2 chivalry 
To mortal combat, or career with lance), 
Thick swarmed, both on the ground and in the air 
Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees 3 
In spring time, when the sun with Taurus rides, 
Pour forth their populous youth about the hive 
In clusters ; they among fresh dews and flowers 
Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, 
The suburb of their straw -built citadel, 
New rubbed with balm, expatiate and confer 
Their state affairs. So thick the airy crowd 

1 i. e. means, contrivances. 
1 Pagan. 

* "As from some rocky clift the shepherd sees 

Clustering in heaps on heaps the driving bees, 
Rolling, and blackening, swarms succeeding swarms, 
With deeper murmurs and more hoarse alarms ; 
Dusky they spread, a close embodied crowd, 
And o'er the vale descends the living cloud." 

— Pope's Iliadi book u. 

^ H^ 



■ 



b. r. 776- 798. PARADISE LOST. 29 

Swarmed and were straitened; till, the signal given, 
Behold a w r onder ! they but now who seemed 
In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons 
Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room 
Throng numberless, like that pygmean race 
• Beyond the Indian mount, or fairy elves, 
Whose midnight revels by a forest side 
Or fountain some belated peasant sees, 
Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon ! 
Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth 
Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and dance 
Intent, with jocund music charm his ear; 
At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. 
Thus incorporeal spirits to smallest forms 
Keduced their shapes immense, and were at large, 
Though without number still amidst the hall 
Of that infernal court. But far within, 
And in their own dimensions like themselves, 
The great seraphic lords and cherubim 
In close recess and secret conclave sat, 
A thousand demigods on golden seats, 
Frequent and full. 2 After short silence then 
And summons read, the great consult began 

1 This alludes to the part which the moon is supposed to play in 
the revels of elves and fairies. 

2 So we have in Latin frequ ens senatus, a full house. And he makes 
use of the same expression in English prose. " The assemhly was 
full and frequent according to summons. - ' See his History of 
England in the reign of Edward the Confessor. — Newton. 



EMI) OW TBE FIRST ROf>K 



"W* 






$o MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. b. n. 1-6. 



BOOK IL 



THE ARGUMENT. 

The consultation begun, Satan debates whether another battle hs t»j 
be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven: some advise it, other* 
dissuade : a third proposal is preferred, mentioned before by Satan,, 
to search the truth of that prophecy or tradition in Heaven con- 
cerning another world, and another kind of creature equal or not 
much inferior to themselves, about this time to be created : their 
doubt who should be sent on this di&cult search: Satan their 
chief undertakes alone the voyage, is honoured and applauded. 
The council thus ended, the rest betake them several ways, and to 
several employments, as their inclinations lead them, to entertain 
the time till Satan return. He passes on his journey to Hell- 
gates, finds them shut, and who sat there to guard them, by whom 
at length they are opened, and discover to him the great gulf 
between Hell and Heaven ; with what difficulty he passes through, 
directed by Chaos, the power of that place, to the sight of this new 
world which he sought. 

High on a throne of royal state, which far 
Outshone the wealth of Ormus 1 and of Ind, 
Or where the gorgeous east 2 with richest hand 
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, 
Satan exalted sat, by merit raised 
To that bad eminence ; and from despair 



__ ^ An island in the Persian Gulf, celebrated for its wealth in 
diamonds. 

2 Not that Ormus and Ind were in the west, but the sense is that 
the throne of Satan outshone diamonds, or pearls and gold, the 
thoicest whereof are produced in the east. Spenser expresses the 
nine thought thus, F. Q. iii. 4, 23. 

" that it did pass 
The wealth of th' east, and pomp of Persian kings." 

/aid the east is said to " shower them on her kings," in allusion to the 



b. ii. 7-32. PARADISE LOST. 31 

Tims high uplifted beyond hope, aspires 
Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue 
Vain war with Heaven, and by success untaugnx 
His proud imaginations thus displayed 

" Powers and dominions, 1 deities of Heaven, 
For since no deep within her gulf can hold 
Immortal vigour, though oppressed and fallen, 
I give not Heaven for lost. From this descent 
Celestial virtues rising, will appeal' 
More glorious and more dread than from no fall, 
And trust themselves to fear no second fate. 
Me, though just right, and the fixed laws of Heaven, 
Did first create your leader, next free choice, 
With what besides, in council or in fight, 
Hath been achieved of merit, yet this loss, 
Thus far at least recovered, hath much more 
Established in a safe unenvied throne 
Yielded with full consent. The happier state 
In Heaven, which follows dignity, might draw 
Envy from each inferior ; 2 but who here 
Will enw whom the highest place exposes 
Foremost to stand against the Thunderei's aim 
your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share 
Of endless pain ? Where there is then no good 
For which to strive, no strife can grow up there 
Frnrn faction ; for none sure will claim in Hell 



custom used at the coronation of some kings in the east, of shower« 
Vig gold and precions stones upon their heads. And the same sort of 
metaphor is used in Shakespear, Ant. and Cleop. act. ii. 

" I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail 
Rich pearJs upon thee." 

^nd this pearl and gold is called " harharic pearl and gold," after th*, 
iTianner of the Greeks and Eomans, who accounted all other nations 
barbarous ; as Virgil, Ma. ii. 504. 

" Barbarico postes auro spoliisque superbi." 

and Mn. viii. 685. 

" Hinc ope barbarica variisqua Antonius armis 
Victor ab aurorae populis." — Newton. 

»Cf. CdIoss.L 16. 

2 He means that the higher in dignity any being was in heaven, the 
happier his state was ; and that therefore inferiors might there envy 
superiors, because they were happier too. — Pearce. 






■• ■ .. -.*, 



+&• 



32 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. b. 11. 35-70. 

Precedence ; none, 1 whose portion is so small 

Of present pain, that with ambitious mind 

Will covet more. With this advantage then 

To union, and firm faith, and firm accord, 

More than can be in Heaven, we now return 

To claim our just inheritance of old, 

Surer to prosper than prosperity 

Could have assm-ed us ; and by what best way, 

Whether of open war or covert guile, 

We now debate : who can advise, may speak." 

He ceased ; and next him Moloch, sceptred king, 
Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest spirit 
That fought in Heaven, now fiercer by despair . 
His trust was with the Eternal to be deemed 
Equal in strength, and rather than be less 
Cared not to be at all ; with that care lost 
Went all his fear : of God, or Hell, or worse, 
He reck'd not, 2 and these words thereafter spake. 

" My sentence is for open war : of wiles, 
More inexpert, I boast not: them let those 
Contrive who need, or when they need, not now 
For while they sit contriving, shall the rest, 
Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait 
The signal to ascend, sit lingering here 
Heaven's fugitives, and for then- dwelling-place 
Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, 
The prison of his tyranny, who reigns 
By our delay ? No, let us rather choose, 
Armed with Hell's flames and fury, all at once 
O'er Heaven's high towers to force resistless way, 
Turning our tortures into horrid arms 
Against the torturer ; when to meet the noise 
Of his almighty engine he shall hear 
Infernal thunder, and for lightning see 
Black fire and horror shot with equal rage 
Among his angels, and his throne itself, 
Mixed with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire, 
His own invented torments. But, perhaps, 

1 Read and point thus : — 

" none. Whose portion is so small 
Of present pain that with ambitious min<\ 
He'll covet more '? With." — Beniley. 

' Cared not. 



> 



*&« 



I 



j. ii, 71-108. PARADISE LOST. 33 

The way seems difficult and steep to scale 

With upright wing against a higher foe. 

Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench 

Of that forgetful lake benumn not still, 

That in our proper motion we ascend 

Up to our native seat : descent and fall 

To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, 

When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear 

Insulting, and pursued us through the deep, 

With what compulsion and laborious flight 

We sunk thus low ? The ascent is easy then , 

The event is feared : should we again provoke 

Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find 

To our destruction ; if there be in hell 

Fear to be worse destroyed : what can be worse 

Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, condemned 

In this abhorred deep to utter woe ; 

Where pain of unextinguishable fire 

Must exercise 1 us without hope of end, 

The vassals 2 of his anger, when the scourge 

Inexorable, and the torturing hour, 

Calls us to penance ? More destroyed than thus 

We should be quite abolished and expire 

What fear we, then? what doubt we to incense 

His utmost ire ? which, to the height enraged, 

W ill either quite consume us, and reduce 

To nothing this essential (happier far 3 

Than miserable to have eternal being) : 

Or if our substance be indeed divine, 

And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 

On this side nothing ; and by proof we feel 

Our power sufficient to disturb his heaven, 

And with perpetual inroads to alarm, 

Though inaccessible, his fatal throne : 4 

Which, if not victory, is yet revenge." 

He ended frowning, and Iris look denounced 
Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous 
To less than gods. 5 On the other side up rose 



1 Harass, torture. 

2 Or, perhaps, " vessels," from Rom. k. 22. — B$ntl&. 
l Cf. Matt. xxvi. 24. Mark xiv. 21. 

* 1. e. his throne upheld by fate. 
9 *'. e. angels. 






JTU 



34 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. n 109-145 

Belial, in act more graceful and humane , 

A fairer person lost not Heaven ; he seemed 

For dignity composed and high exploit: 

But all was false and hollow; though his tongue 

Dropped manna, 1 and could make the worse appea/ f 

The better reason, to perplex and clash 

Maturest counsels, for his thoughts were low, 

To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds 

Timorous and slothful ; yet he pleased the ear, 

And with persuasive accent thus began. 

" I should be much for open war, peers, 
As not behind in hate ; if what was urged 
Main reason to persuade immediate war, 
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast 
Ominous conjecture on the whole success ; 
"When he who most excels in fact of arms, 8 
In what he counsels and in what excels 
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair 
And utter dissolution, as the scope 
Of all his aim, after some dire revenge 
First, what revenge ? The towers of Heaven are filled 
With armed watch, that render all access 
Impregnable , oft on the "Ordering deep 
Encamp their legions, 01 with obscure wing 
Scout far and wide into the realm of night, 
Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way 
By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise 
With blackest insurrection, to confound 
Heaven's purest light, yet our great enemy 
All incorruptible would on his throne 
Sit unpolluted, and the ethereal mould 
Incapable of stain would soon expel 
Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire 
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hone 
Is flat despair-; we must exasperate 
The Almighty Victor to spend all his rage. 
And that must end us ; that must be our jure, 

1 So, Sliakspeare, Merchant of Venice, act v. 

" Fair ladie, you drop manna in the way 
Of starved people." 

2 \tna was the well known profession of the Sophiols, ih* A Ayr # 
ffrvrJTTU) <pe'iTTij iroitiv. 



<> 



4* 



b. ii. is6-i6s. PARADISE LOST. 35 

To be no more— sad cure ! for who would lc39, 
Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
Those thoughts that wander through eternity, 
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost 
In the wide womb of uncreated night, 
Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows, 
Let this be good, whether our angry foe 
Can give it, or will ever ? how he can, 
Is doubtful ; that he never will, is sure 
Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, 
Belike through impotence, 1 or unaware, 
To give his enemies their wish, and end 
Them in his anger, whom his anger saves 
To punish endless ? Wherefore cease we then f 
Say they who counsel war, we are decreed, 
Reserved, and destined to eternal woe ; 
Whatever doing, what can we suffer more, 
What can we suffer worse ? Is this then worst, 
Thus fitting, thus consulting, thus in arms? 
What when we fled amain, pursued and struck 
With Heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought 
The deep to shelter us? this Hell then seemed 
A refuge from those wounds : or when we lay 
Chained on the burning lake ? that sure was won*^ 
What if the breath 2 that kindled those grim firefe, 
Awaked should blow them into sevenfold rage, 
And plunge us in the flames? or from above 
Should intermitted vengeance arm again 
His red right hand 3 to plague us? what if all 
Her stores were opened, and this firmament 
Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, 
Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall 
One day upon our heads ; while we, perhaps, 
"Designing or exhorting glorious war, 
Caught in a fiery tempest shall be hurled 
Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey 
Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk 
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains; 
There to converse with everlasting groans, 
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, 

1 i. e. weakness of mind, want of self-restraint 

3 Cf. Is. xxx. 33. 

s " Et mbenti dextera sacras jaculatus t\rces."— Hot. G<i L y 



V* 



# 



<> 



36 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. n. 186-225 

Ages of hopeless end ? this would be worse, 

War, therefore, open or concealed, alike 

My voice dissuades ; for what can force or guila 

With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye 

Views all things at one view? he from Heaven's heigbj 

All these our motions vain sees and derides; 1 

Not more almighty to resist our might 

Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. 

Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heaven 

Thus "trampled, thus expelled to suffer here 

Chains and these torments? Better these than worse 

3j my advice ; since fate inevitable 

Subdues us, and omnipotent decree, 

The victor's will. To suffer, as to do, 

Our strength is equal, 2 nor the law unjust 

That so ordains ; this was at first resolved 

If we were wise, against so great a foe 

Contending, and so doubtful what might fall 

I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold 

And venturous, if that fail them, shrink and fear 

What yet they know must follow, to endure 

Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain, 

The sentence of their conqueror; this is now 

Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear, 

Our supreme foe in time may much remit 

His anger, and perhaps thus far removed 

Not mind us not offending, satisfied 

With what is punished ; whence these raging fires 

Will slacken, if his breath stir not their names. 

Our purer essence then will overcome 

Their noxious vapour, or inured not feel, 

Or changed at length and to the place conformed 

In temper and in nature, will receive 

Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain ; 

This horror will grow mild, this darkness light; 

Besides what hope the never-ending flight 

Of future days may bring, what chance, what change 

Worth waiting, since our present lot appears 

For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, 

If we procure not to ourselves more woe." 

1 See Psalm ii. 4. 

2 Et facere, et pati. So Mueius Scsevola boasted that he rrfta n 
Roman, and knew as well how to suffer as to act. Et facere et pr.ti 
*.>rtia Romanum est. Liv. ii- 11, — Newton. 



*&* 



V 



St*- 



*&> 



it, ii. 226-265. PARADISE LOST. 37 

Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's gsjb, 
Counselled ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth, 
Not peace : and after him thus Mammon spake. 

"Either to disenthrone the King of Heaven 
We war, if war be best, or to regain 
Our own right lost . him to unthrone we then 
May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield 
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife ■ l 
The former 2 vain to hope argues as vain 
The latter: 3 for what place can be for us 
Within Heaven's bound, unless Heaven's Lord supresh 
We overpower? Suppose he should relent, 
And publish grace to all on promise made 
Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
Stand in his presence humble, and receive 
Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne 
With warbled hymns, and to Ins Godhead ein£ 
Forced hallelujahs; while he lordly sits 
Our envied sovereign, and his altar breathes 
Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers, 
Our servile offerings ? This must be our task 
In Heaven, this our delight ; how wearisome 
Eternity so spent in worship paid 
To whom we hate ! Let us not then pursue 
By force impossible, by leave obtained 
Unacceptable, though in Heaven, our state 
Of splendid vassalage ; but rather seek 
Our own good from ourselves, and from our own 
Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess, 
Free, and to none accountable, preferring 
Hard liberty before the easy yoke 
Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear 
Then most conspicuous, when great things of en>a!i, 
Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse 
We can create, and in what place soe'er 
Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain 
Through labour and endmance. This deep world 
Of darkness do we dread ? How oft amidst 
Thick clouds and dark doth Heaven's all-ruling Sirs 
Choose to reside, 4 his glory unobscured, 

1 1. e. the strife between God and ourselvef. 
* i. e. to unthrone the King of Heaven. 
' i. e. to regain our lost rights. 
4 Ci Psalm xviii. 11—13, and xcvii. %. 



-y- 



"" Y 



*tb+- -— — ->< B4 



38 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, l. n. 266-30* 

And with the majesty of darkness round 

C«vers his throne ; from whence deep thunders roar 

V ustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell ? 

/ s he our darkness, cannot we his light 

Imitate when we please ? This desert soil 

Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold; 

Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise 

Magnificence ; and what can Heaven show more ? 

Our torments also may in length of time 

Become our elements, these piercing fires 

As soft as now severe, our temper changed 

Into their temper; which must needs remove 

The sensible 1 of pain. All things invite 

To peaceful counsels, and the settled state 

Of order, how in safety best we may 

Compose our present evils, with regard 

Of what we are and where, 8 dismissing quite 

All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise." 

He scarce had finished, when such murmur filled 
The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 
The sound of blustering winds, which all night long 
Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull 
Seafaring men o'erwatched, whose bark by chance 
Or pinnace anchors in a craggy bay 
After the tempest: such applause was heard 
As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, 
Advising peace ; for such another field" 
They dreaded worse than Hell, so much the fear 
Of thunder and the sword of Michael 
Wrought still within them; and no less desire 
To found this nether empire, which might rise 
By policy, and long process of time, 
In emulation opposite to Heaven. 
Which when Beelzebub perceived, than whom, 
Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed 
A pillar of state ; 4 deep on his front engraven 
Deliberation sat and public care ; 

1 i. e. sense, sensation. 

8 Some editions read " were." 

* Compare Virgil, Mn. x. 96 sq. 

* Cf. Shakspeare, 2 Hen. VI., act i. :— 



" Brave peerg of England, pillara of the it&U.' 



r 



«A+ 



b. ii. 304-338. PARADISE LOST. 39 

And princely counsel in his face yet shone, 

Majestic though in ruin; sage he stood 

With Atlantean ! shoulders fit to bear 

The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look 

Drew audience and attention still as night 

Or summer's noontide 3 air, while thus he spake : 

" Thrones and imperial powers, offspring of Heaven.. 
Ethereal virtues ! or these titles now 
Must we renounce, and, changing style, be called 
Princes of Hell ? for so the popular vote 
Inclines, here to continue, and build up here 
A growing empire ; doubtless ; while we dream, 
And know not that the King of Heaven hath doomed 
This place our dungeon, not our safe retreat 
Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt 
From Heaven's high jurisdiction, in new league 
Banded against his tin one, but to remain 
In strictest bondage, though thus far removed, 
Under the inevitable curb, reserved 
His captive multitude ; for he, be sure, 
In height or depth, still first and last will reign 
Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part 
By our revolt, but over Hell extend 
His empire, and with iron sceptre 3 rule 
Us here, as with his golden those in Heaven 
What sit we then projecting peace and war? 
War hath determined us, and foiled with loss 
Irreparable ; terms of peace yet none 
Vouchsafed or sought ; for what peace will be given 
To us enslaved, but * custody severe, 
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
Inflicted? and what peace can we return, 
But to our power hostility and hate, 
Untamed reluctance, and revenge though e!ow ; 
Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least 

1 Alluding to the fable of Atlas bearing Heavan on his shoulders 
Cf. Eurip., Ion. i. 

2 " Noontide " is the same as " noontime," when in hot countries 
there is hardly a breath of wind stirring, and men and beasts, by 
reason of the intense heat, retire to shade and rest. This is the cus- 
tom of Italy particularly, where our author lived some time.— 
Nsw'.on. 

3 Cf. Ps. ii. 9. 

* t. t. saye. except 



"&< — ^ 

40 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. n. 339-36 j, 

May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice 

In doing what we most in suffering feel ? 

Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need 

With dangerous expedition to invade 

Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault or siege, 

Or ambush from the deep. What if we find 

Some easier enterprise ? There is a place 

(If ancient and prophetic fame in Heaven 

Err not), another world, the happy seat 

Of some new race called Man, about this tim3 

To be created like to us, though less 

In power and excellence, but favoured more 

Of him who rules above ; so was his will 

Pronounced among the gods, and by an oath, 

That shook Heaven's whole circumference, 1 confirmed. 

Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn 

What creatures there inhabit, of what mould 

Or substance, how endued, and what their power, 

And where their weakness, how attempted best, 

By force or subtlety. Though Heaven be shut, 

And Heaven's high arbitrator sit secure 

In his own strength, this place may lie exposed, 

The utmost border of his kingdom, left 

To their defence who hold it : here, perhaps, 

Some advantageous act may be achieved 

By sudden onset, either with Hell-fire 

To waste his whole creation, or possess 

All as our own, and drive, as we were driven, 

The puny habitants ; or if not drive, 

Seduce them to our party, that their God 

1 From Homer, II. 1 : — 

" He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows ; 
Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod, 
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god; 
High Heaven with trembling the dread signal took 
And all Olympus to the centre shook." — Pope. 

Compare Virgil, Mn. iz. :— 

" To seal his sacred vow, by Styx he swore, 
The lake with liquid pitch, the dreary shore, 
And Phlegethon's innavigable flood, 
And the black regions of his brother god: 
He said] and shook the skies with his imperial nod." 



^ — _ ^. 



«<B* 



*y 



*<& 



b. ii. 369-408. PARADISE LOST. 41 

May prove their foe, and with repenting hand 
Abolish his own works. This would surpass 
Common revenge, and interrupt his joy 1 
In our confusion, and our joy upraise 
Jn his disturbance ; when his darling sons, 
Hurled headlong to partake with us, shall ciirso 
Their frail original, and faded bliss. 
Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth 
Attempting, or to sit in darkness here 
Hatching vain empires." Thus Beelzebub 
Pleaded his devilish counsel, first devised 
By Satan, and in part proposed ; for whence, 
But from the author of all ill, could spring 
So deep a malice, to confound the race 
Of mankind in one root, and earth with Hell 
To mingle and involve, done all to spite 
The great Creator ? But their spite still serves 
His glory to augment. The bold design 
Pleased highly those infernal states, and joy 
Sparkled in all their eyes ; with full assent 
They vote : whereat his speech he thus renews. 

" Well have ye judged, well ended long debate, 
Synod of gods, and like to what ye are, 
Great things resolved, which from the lowest deep 
Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, 
Nearer our ancient seat ; perhaps in view 
Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring arm! 
And opportune excursions we may chance 
Re-enter Heaven ; or else in some mild zone 
Dwell, not unvisited of Heaven's fair light, 
Secure, and at the brightening orient beam 
Purge off this gloom ; the soft delicious air, 
To heal the scar of these corrosive fires, 
Shall breathe her balm. But first, whom shall we senfc 
In search of this new world ; whom shall we find 
Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandering feet 
The dark, unbottomed, infinite abyss, 
And through the palpable obscure find out 
His uncouth way, or spread his airy flight, 
Upborne with indefatigable wings, 

1 Relative to the rise of terms, denotiDg humwi affections, as ip« 
plied to God, compare Tomlins ou tho Articles, v. ii. p. 55, and mv 
sditAon of Calmet. art. Angeb. 



+%$* 



1 J* - — 



#♦ 



42 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, n. 11. 409-441. 

Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive 1 
The happy isle ? What strength, what art can then 
Suffice, or what evasion hear him safe 
Through the strict sentries and stations thick 
Of angels watching round ? Here he had need 
All circumspection, and we now no less 
Choice in our suffrage ; for on whom we send. 
The weight of all and our last hope relies." 

This said, he sat,, and expectation held 
His look suspense, awaiting who appeared 
To second or oppose, or undertake 
The perilous attempt : but all sat mute, 
Pondering the danger with deep thoughts ; and each 
In others' countenance read his own dismay 
Astonished : none among the choice and prime 
Of those Heaven-warring champions could be found 
So hardy as to proffer or accept 
Alone the dreadful voyage ; till at last 
Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised 
Above his fellows, with monarchal pride 
Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus spake 

" progeny of Heaven ! empyreal thrones ! 
With reason hath deep silence and demur 
Seized us, though undismayed : long is the way 
And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light; 3 
Our prison strong; this huge convex 3 of fire, 
Outrageous to devour, immures us round 
Ninefold, and gates of burning adamant 
Barred over us prohibit all egress. 
These passed, if any pass, the void profound 
Of unessential night receives him next 
Wide gaping, and with utter loss of being 
Threatens him plunged in that abortive gulf. 

1 We should now say " arrive at" But Milton has the s^me idiort 
11 his prose -writings, and so Shakspeare, 3 HeD. IV., act v., " hwfi 
arrived our coast." 

3 He had Virgil in mind, iEn. vi. :— 

" But to return and view the cheerful skies, 
In this the task and mighty labour lies." — Dryden, 

My limits compel me to abstain from pointing out many other coin* 
cidenees. 

s i. e. vault. Convex is properly ased of the exterior surface of % 
globe, and concave of the hollow interior ; but the distinction is not 
flwavj observed. Cf. crt- 635, " the fiazv etri&we." 



w* 



•s^ 



<€»■ 



-r • ' 



ft ji. 442-472- PARADISE LOST. 43 

If thence he 'scape into whatever world, 

Or unknown region, what remains him less 

Than unknown clangers, and as hard escape? 

But I should ill become this throne, peers, 

And this imperial sovereignty, adorned 

With splendour, armed with power, if aught propose-* 

And judged of public moment, in the shape 

Of difficulty or danger could deter 

Me fioin attempting Wherefore do I assume l 

These royalties, and not refuse to reign, 

Refusing to accept as great a share 

Of hazard as of honour, due alike 

To him who reigns, and so much to him due 

Of hazard more, as he above the rest 

High honoured sits ? Go, therefore, mighty powers, 

Terror of Heaven, though fallen; intend at home, 

While here shall be our home, what best may ease 

The present misery, and render Hell 

More tolerable ; if there be cure or charm 

To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain 

Of this ill mansion : intermit no watch 

Against a wakeful foe, while I abroad 

Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek 

Deliverance for us all : this enterprise 

None shall partake with me." Thus saying rose 

The monarch, and prevented all reply, 

Prudent, lest from his resolution raised 

Others among the chief might offer new 

(Certain to be refused) what erst they feared ; 

And so refused might in opinion stand 

His rivals, winning cheap the high repute 

1 Milton evidently imitates the magnificent speech of Sarpedon, \?< 
fiiad, xii.: — 

" Why hoast we, Glaucns, our extended reign, 
TVhere Xanthus' streams enrich the Lycian plain, 
Our numerous herds that range the fruitful field, 
And hills where vines their purple harvest yield, 
Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crowned, 
Our feasts enhanced with music's sprightly sound? 
Why on those shores are we with joy surveyed, 
Admired as heroes, and as gods obeyed ? 
Unless great acts superior merit prove, 
And vindicate the bounteous powers above. 
'Tis ours, the dignity they give, to grace ; 
The first in ^elour. nr the first in rdaoe," fcc—Poff. 



•+«f 



4 



4< 



U MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ii. 473-502. 

Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they 

Dreaded not more the adventure than his voice 

Forbidding ; and at once with Mm they rose ; 

Their rising all at once was as the sound 

Of thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend 

With awful reverence prone, and as a god 

Extol him equal to the Highest in Heaven : 

Ner failed they to express how much they praised, 

That for the general safety he despised 

His own ; for neither do the spirits damned 

Lose all their virtue ; lest bad 1 men should boast 

Their specious deeds on earth, which glory excites, 

Or close ambition varnished o'er with zeal. 

Thus they their doubtful consultations dark 

Ended rejoicing in their matchless chief: 

As when from mountain tops the dusky clouds * 

Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o'erspread 

Heaven's cheerful face, the lowering element 

Scowls o'er the darkened landskip snow or shower ; 

If chance the radiant sun with farewell sweet 

Extend his evening beam, the fields revive, 

The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds 

Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. 

shame to men ! devil with devil damned 
Firm concord holds, men only disagree 
Of creatures rational, though under hope 
Of heavenly grace ; and, God proclaiming peace, 
Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 
Among themselves, and levy cruel wars, 
Wasting the earth, each other to destroy : 

1 " This remark (of the devils not losing all their virtue) I make, 
lest bad men should boast." Such is the full sense, according to 
Pearce, who observes, " Milton here seems to have had in view Ephes, 
ii. 8 sq. : " By grace are ye saved, through faith ; not of works, lest 
any man should boast." In which St. Paul put them in mind ti 
that, and made that remark to prevent them boasting. 

2 Compare II. xvi. :— 

" So when thick clouds enwrap the mountain's head, 
O'er Heaven's expanse like one black ceiling spread ; 
Sudden the Thunderer, with a flashing ray, 
Bursts through the darkness, and lets down the day; 
The hills shine out, the rocks in prospect rise, 
And streams, and vales, and forests strike the eyes. 
The smiling scene wide opens to the sight, _ 
And *J1 the unmeasured sether flames with light."— Pt^» 



4* 



<B* — — — — ^ 

». "• 503-535. PARADISE LOST. 4S 

As if (which might induce us to accord) 
Man had not hellish foes enow hesides, 
That day and night for Ms destruction wait 

The Stygian council thus dissolved; and forth 
In order came the grand infernal peers : 
Midst came their mighty paramount, and seemed 
Alone the antagonist of Heaven, nor less 
Than Hell's dread emperor with pomp supreme, 
And godlike imitated state ; him round 
A globe 1 of fiery seraphim enclosed 

With bright emblazonry and horrent 5 arms \ 

Then of their session ended they bid cry 
With trumpets regal sound the great result : 
Towards the four winds, four speedy cherubim 
Put to their mouths the sounding alchemy 3 
3y heralds' voice explained ; the hollow abyss 
Heard far and wide, and all the host of Hell 
With deafening shout returned them loud acclaim. 
Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat raised 
By false presumptuous hope, the ranged powers 
Disband, and wandering, each his several way 
Pursues, as inclination or sad choice 
Leads him perplexed, where he may likeliest find 
Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain 
The irksome hours, till his great chief return. 
Part on the plain, or in the air sublime, 
Upon the wing, or in swift race contend, 
As at the Olympian games or Pythian fields ; 
Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 
With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. 
As when to warn proud cities, war appeal's 
Waged in the troubled sky, and armies rush 
To battle in the clouds, 4 before each van 

1 i. e. a thick battalion or troop encircling him. 

8 t. e. bristling, terrible. 

8 This denotes any compound metal, not being used in the form* 
tion of musical instruments. 

* Such phenomena have been frequently reported ; never sa 
amusingly as in " Strange and Wonderful News from Chipping 
Norton, in the County of Oson, of certain dreadful apparitions which 
were seen in the air on the 26th of July, 1610, at half an hour after 
nine o'clock at noon, and continued till eleven, in which time was seen 
appearances of several flaming swords, strange motions of the superior 
orbs ; with the unusual sparkling of the stars, with thiir dreadful 
?ontinu«tionB," &c &Q, — See Scott's Antiquary, chap. iii. 



*&*" 



•*#* 



p-iJ-.^,:, 



-M 



46 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. 11. 536-567. 

Prick forth the any knights, and couch their spears* 

Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms 

From either end of Heaven the welkin burns. 

Others with vast Typhoean rags, more fell, 

Kend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 

Tn whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wild upioar 

As when Alcides, 2 from Oechalia crowned 

With conquest, felt the envenomed robe, and tore 

Through pain up by the roots Thessalian i);nes» 

And Lichas from the top of Oeta threw 

Into th' Euboic sea. Others more mild, 

Retreated in a silent valley, sing 

With notes angelical to many a harp 

Their own heroic deeds and hapless fall 

By doom of battle ; and complain that fate 

Free virtue should enthral to force or chance 

Their song was partial, but the harmony 

(What could it less when spiiits immortal sing ?) 

Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment 

The thronging audience. In discourse more sweeJ 

(For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense), 

Others apart sat on a hill retired, 

In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high 

Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, 

Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute, 

And found no end, in wandering mazes lost 

Of good and evil much they argued then, 

Of happiness and final misery, 

Passion and apathy, and glory and shame, 

Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy : 

Yet with a pleasing sorcery could charm 

Pain for a while, or anguish, and excite 

1 i. e. fix them in ilieir rests. The rest was made in the breast ol 
the armour, and derived its name from arrester, to stop. — Richardson. 

2 As when Hercules, named Alcides from his grandfather Alceeus, 
•' from Oechalia crowned with conquest," after his return from the 
conquest of Oechalia, a city of Bceotia, having brought with him from 
thence Iole, the king's daughter, " felt the envenomed robe," which 
was sent him by Deianira in jealousy of his new mistress, and stuck 
so close to his skin that he could not pull off the one without pulling 
off the other, " and tore through pain up by the roots Thessalian 
pines, and Lichas" who had brought him the poisoned robe, "from 
the top of Oeta," a mountain in the borders of Thessaly, " threw into 
the Euboic aea," the sea near Euboea, an island in the Archipelago.— 
Ntwtw. 



irfflLi 



4* 



b. ii. 568-590. PARADISE LOST. 47 

Fallacious hope, or arm the obdured 1 breast 

With stubborn patience as with triple steel. 

Another part, in squadrons and gross bands, 

On bold adventure to discover wide 

That dismal world, if any clime perhaps 

Might yield them easier habitation, bend 

Four ways their flying march, along the banks 

Of four infernal livers, that disgorge 

Into the burning lake their baleful streair.fj, 

Abhorred Styx, 2 the flood of deadly hate ; 

Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep ; 

Cocytus, named of lamentation loud 

Heard on the rueful stream ; fierce PhlegetTion, 

"Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. 

Far off from these a slow and silent stream, 

Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls 

Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks, 

Forthwith his former state and being forgets, 

Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. 

Beyond this flood a frozen continent 

Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms 

Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land 

Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems 

1 Hardened. 

2 The Greeks reckon up five rivers in Hell, and call them after 
the names of the noxious springs and rivers in their own country. 
Our poet follows thoir example both as to the number and the names 
of these infernal rivers, and excellently describes their nature and 
properties with the explanation of their names. " Styx," so named 
of a Greek word arvyiio that signifies to hate and abhor, and there- 
fore called here " abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate ; " and by 
Virgil, " palus inaaabilis, /En. vi. 43S. " Acheron" has its name from 
<*X°£ dolor, and f;£o» fluo, "flowing with grief;" and is represented 
accordingly "sad Acheron," the river "of sorrow," as Styx was of 
Vate, " black and deep," agreeable to Virgil's character of it, JEn. vi. 
107: " Tenebrosa palus Acheronte refuso." "Cocytus, named of 
lamentation," because derived from a Greek word ko&kvui, signifying 
to weep and lament: as "Phlegethon" is from another Greek word 
0Xsya), signifying to burn ; and therefore rightly described here 
"fierce Phlegethon, whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage," as 
it is by Virgil, iEn. vi. 550. We know not what to say as to the situa- 
tion of these rivers. Homer, the most ancient poet, represents 
Cocytus as branching out of Styx, and both Cocytus and Phlegethon 
(or Pyriphlegethon) as flowing into Acheron, Odyss. x. 513 ; and per- 
haps he describes their situation as it "really wr» in Greece; but 
Virgil and the other poets frequently confound them, and mention 



■r 



f 



tw 



4>* 



^ 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. n. 591-611 



Of ancient pile ; all else deep snow and ice, 

A gulf profound as that Serbonian 1 bog 

Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, 

Where armies whole have sunk : the parching air 

Burns frore, 2 <md cold performs the effect of fire 

Thither by L_rpy-footed furies haled, 3 

At certain revolutions all the damned 

Are brought ; and feel by turns the bitter change 

Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more tiered ; 

From beds of raging fire to starve in ice 

Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine 

Immoveable, infixed, and frozen round, 

Periods of time ; thence hurried back to fire, 

They ferry over this Lethean sound 

Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment, 

And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach 

The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose 

In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe, 

All in one moment, and so near the brink ; 

But fate withstands, and to oppose the attempt 

Medusa 4 with Gorgonian terror guards 

their names and places without sufficient difference or distinction. 
Out poet, therefore, was at liberty to draw (as I may say) a new map 
of these rivers; and he supposes "a burning lake" agreeably to 
Scripture, that often mentions "the lake of fire;" and he makes 
these four rivers to flow from four different quarters, and empty 
themselves into this burning lake, which gives us a much greater idea 
than any of the heathen poets. Besides these there is a fifth river 
called " Lethe," which name in Greek signifies " forgetfulness," and 
r*6 waters are said to have occasioned that quality, iEn. vi. 714. — Newton. 

1 Serboniswas a lake 200 furlongs in length and 1,000 in compass, be- 
tween the ancient mountain Casius, and Damiata, a city of Egypt on one 
of the more easterl _aouths of the Nile. It was surrounded on all sides 
by hills of loose sand, which, carried into the water by high winds, so 
thickened the lake as not to be distinguished from part of the conti- 
nent, where whole armies have been swallowed up. — Hume. 

2 Frostily. Cf. Ecclus. xliii. 20, sq. ; Ps. exxi. 6. 

s Dragged. So Spenser, F. Q. v. 226: "who rudely haled her forth 
without remorse." 

4 Medusa was one of the Gorgon monsters whose locks were ser* 
pents so terrible tbat they turned the beholders into stone. Ulysses, 
in Homer, was desirous of seeing more of the departed heroes, but 1 
was afraid, says he, Odyss. xi.: — 

" Lest Gorgon rising from the infernal lakes, 
With horrors armed, and curls of hissing snakes, 
Should fix me, stiffened at the monstrous sight, 
A stony image in eternal night" 



V- 



fr 



*4^ 



■*&» 



n. ii, 612—646. 



PARADISE LOST. 



49 



The ford, and of itself the water flies 

All taste of living wight, as once it fled 

The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on 

In confused march forlorn, the adventurous bands 

With shuddering horror pale, and eyes aghast, 

Viewed first their lamentable lot, and found 

No rest : through many a dark and dreary vale 

They passed, and many a region dolorous, 

O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, 

Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, hogs, dens, and shades of death 

A universe of death, which God by curse 

Created evil, for evil only good, 

Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds, 

Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious tilings, 

Abominable, inutterable, and worse 

Than fables yet have feigned, or fear conceived, 

Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimseras dire/ 

Meanwhile the adversary of God and man, 
Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, 
Puts on swift wings, and toward the gates of Hell 
Explores his solitary flight: sometimes 
He scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left; 
Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 
Up to the fiery concave towering high. 
As when far off at sea a fleet descried 
Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds 
Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 
Of Ternate and Tidore, 2 whence merchants bring 
Their spicy drugs : they on the trading flood 
Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape 
Ply stemming nightly toward the pole So seemed 
Far off the flying fiend : at last appear 
Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 
And thrice threefold the gates; three folds were brass. 
Three iron, three of adamantine rock, 

4 Compare Tasso, iv. 5 : — 

" There -were Celaeno's foul and loathsome rout, 

There Sphinges, Centaurs, there were Gorgons fell, 

There howling Scyllas, yawling round about, 

There serpents hiss, there seven-mouthed Hydras yell; 

Chimsera there spues fire and brimstone out." — Fairfax. 

% Tuo of the Molucca islands in the East Indinn eesu 



V" 



-v 



*&« 



So 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ii. 647-666, 



impenetrable, impaled 1 with circling fire, 
Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat 
On either side a formidable shape ; 
The one seemed woman 2 to the waist, and fair, 
"Rut ended foul in many a scaly fold 
Voluminous and vast, a serpent armed 
With mortal sting : about her middle round 
A cry of hell-hounds never ceasing barked 
With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rurg 
A. hideous peal ; yet, when they list, would creep, 
vf aught disturbed their noise, into her womb, 
And kennel there, yet there still barked and howled, 
Within unseen. Tar less abhorred than these 
Vexed Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts 
Calabria irom the hoarse Trinacrian shore : 
Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when, called 
In secret, riding through the air she comes, 
Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance 
With Lapland witches 3 while the labouring moon 
Eclipses at their charms. The other shape, 4 

1 Paled in, guarded with-palings. Here begins the famous allegory 
of Milton, which is a sort of paraphrase on that text of the Apostle St. 
James, i. 15, " Then when lust hath conceived it bringeth forth Sin, 
and Sin when it is finished bringeth forth Death." The first part of 
the allegory says only, that Satan's intended voyage was dangerous to 
his being, and that he resolved, however, to venture. — Richardson. 

2 It is not improbable, that the author might have in mind, 
Spenser's description of error in the mixed shape of a woman and a 
serpent, Faerie Queen, b. 1, c. 1, st. 14. 

" Half like a serpent horribly displayed, 
But the other half did woman's shape retain," &c. 

And, also, the image of Echidna, b. 6, c. 6, st. 10. 

" Yet did her face, and former parts, profess 
A fair young maiden, full of comely glee ; 
But all her hinder parts did plain express 
A monstrous dragon, full of fearful ugliness." — Nc.cion. 

8 These superstitions, it is almost needless to be observed, were 
thought less ridiculous in Milton's time than in our own. 

4 This poetical description of Death, our author has pretty evi 
lently borrowed from Spenser, Faerie Queen, b. 7, cant. 7, st. 45 : — 

' But after all came Life, and lastly Death, 
Death with most grim and grisly visage seen ; 
Yet is he nought but parting of the breath, 
Ne ought to see, but like a shade to ween, 
Unbodied, unsettled, unheard pnseen."— Tttyiv 



*$• 






b. ii. 667-707. PARADISE LOST. $i 

If shape it might be called that shape had none 

Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb, 

Or substance might be called that shadow seemed, 

For each seemed either ; black it stood as night, 

Fierce as ten furies, terrible as Hell, 

And shook a dreadful dart ; what seemed his head 

The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 

Satan was now at hand ; and from his seat, 

The monster moving onward came as fast 

With horrid strides ; Hell trembled as he strode. 

The undaunted fiend what this might be admired, 

Admired, not feared ; God and his Son except, 

Created thing nought valued he nor shunned ; 

And with disdainful look thus first began : 

" Whence and what art thou, execrable shape, 
That darest, though grim and terrible, advance 
Thy miscreated l front athwart my way 
To yonder gates ? Through them I mean to pass, 
That be assured, without leave asked of thee: 
Retire, or taste thy lolly, and learn by proof, 
Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of Heaven." 

To whom the goblin full of wrath replied : 
" Art thou that traitor angel, art thou he, 
Who first broke peace in Heaven and faith, till theu 
Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms 
Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons, 
Conjured 2 against the Highest ; for which both thov, 
And the} T , outcast from God, are here condemned 
To waste eternal days in woe and pain ? 
And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of Heaven, 
Hell-doomed, and breath'st defiance here and scorn 
Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, 
Thy king and lord ? Back to thy punishment, 
False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, 
Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue 
Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart 
Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before. ff 

So spake the grisly terror, and in shape, 
So speaking and so threatening, grew tenfold 
More dreadful and deform : on the other side, 
Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 

1 Ill-created, ill-formed, 

1 Plotting, conspiring, sworn against 



ih 



$1 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. h. 708-737* 

Unterriiied, and like a comet burned, 

That fires the length of Ophiuchus 1 huge 

In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 

Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head 

Levelled his deadly aim ; their fatal hands 

No second stroke intend ; and such a frown 

Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds, 

With Heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on 

Dver the Caspian, 2 then stand front to front, 

Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow 

To join their dark encounter in mid air: 

So frowned the mighty combatants, that Hell 

Grew darker at their frown, so matched they stod ; 

For never but once more was either like 

To meet so great a foe : 3 and now great deeds 

Had been achieved, whereof all Hell had rung, 

Had not the snaky sorceress that sat 

Fast by Hell-gate, and kept the fatal key, 

Risen, and with hideous outcry rushed between. 

" O father, what intends thy hand," she cried, 
" Against thy only son ? What fury, son, 
Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart 
Against thy father's head? and knowest 4 for whom? 
For him who sits above and laughs the while 
At thee, ordained his drudge, to execute 
Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids ; 
His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both." 

She spake, and at her words the hellish pest 
Forbore, then these to her Satan returned : 

"So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange 

1 >'. e. a length of about forty degrees, " in the arctic sky," or the 
northern hemisphere, "and from his horrid hair shakes pestilence 
and war." Poetry delights in omens, prodigies, and such wonderfui 
events as were supposed to follow upon the appearance of comets, 
eclipses, and the like. We have another instance of this nature ir 
i. 598; and Tasso in the same manner compares Argantes to a comet 
an J mentions the like fatal effects, cant. 7, st. 52 : — ■ 

"As when a comet far and wide descried, 
In scorn of Phoebus 'midst bright Heaven doth shine, 
And tidings sad of death and mischief brings 
To mighty lords, to monarchs, and to Icings." 

— Faii-fax. Ne&ien, 
3 h. sea particularly noted for storms and tempests 
3 Jesus Christ. 
1 i. e. even when thou knowest 



4* 



t*»*» 



+&* 



*dfh 



*.n. 738-777. PARADISE LOST. 53 

Thou interposest, that my suddeu baud 
Prevented spares to tell thee yet by deeds 
What it intends ; till first I know of thee, 
What thing thou art, thus double-formed, and why 
[n this infernal vale first met thou call'st 
Me father, and that phantasm callest my son ; 
I know thee not, nor ever saw till now 
Sight more detestable than him and thee." 

To whom thus the portress of Hell-gate replied : 
" Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem 
Now in thine eye so foul ? once deemed so fair 
In Heaven, when at the assembly, and in sight 
Of all the seraphim with thee combined 
In bold conspiracy against Heaven's King, 
All on a sudden miserable pain 1 
Surprised thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swum 
In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast 
Threw forth, till on the left side opening wide, 
Likest to thee in shape and countenance bright. 
Then shining heavenly fair, a goddess armed 
Out of thy head I jprung : amazement seized 
All the host of Heaven ; back they recoiled afraid 
At first, and called me Sin, and for a sign 
Portentous held me ; but, familiar grown, 
I pleased, and with attractive graces won 
The most averse, thee chiefly, who full oft 
Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing 
Becamest enamoured, and such joy thou took'st 
With me in secret, that my womb conceived 
A growing burden. Meanwhile war arose, 
And fields were fought in Heaven ; wherein remained 
(For what could else ?) to our almighty foe 
Clear victory, to our part loss and rout 
Through all the empyrean : down they fell 
Driven headlong from the pitch of Heaven, down 
Into this deep, and in the general fall 
I also ; at which time this powerful key 
Into my hand was given, with charge to keep 
These gates for ever shut, which none can pask 
Without my opening. Pensive here I sat 

1 This description of Sin springing from the head of Satan vs abl; 
Imitated from the classical descriptions of the birth of Minerva from 
the head of Jupiter. 



<>♦ 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. n. 778-819. 



Alone, but long I sat not, till my womb, 
Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown, 
Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes. 
At last this odious offspring whom thou seest, 
Thine own begotten, breaking violent way, 
Tore through my entrails, that with fear and pain 
Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew 
Transformed : but he my inbred enemy 
Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart 
Made to destroy: I fled, and cried out ' Death!' 
Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sighed 
From all her caves, and back resounded ' Death V 
I fled, but he pursued (though more, it seems, 
Inflamed with lust than rage), and swifter far, 
Me overtook, his mother, all dismayed, 
And in embraces forcible and foul 
Engendering with me, of that rape begot 
These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry 
Surround me, as thou sawest, hourly conceived 
And hourly born, with sorrow infinite 
To me ; for when they list, into the womb 
That bred them they return, and howl and gnaw 
My bowels, then repast ; then bursting forth 
Afresh with conscious terrors vex me round, 
That rest or intermission none I find. 
Before mine eyes in opposition sits 
Grim Death, my son and foe, who sets them on, 
And me his parent would full soon devour 
For want of other prey, but that he knows 
His end with mine involved ; and knows that 1 
Should prove a bitter morsel, and his bane, 
Whenever that shall be ; so fate pronounced. 
But thou, father, I forewarn thee, shun 
His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope 
To be invulnerable in those bright arms, 
Though tempered heavenly ; for that mortal dint, 1 
Save he who reigns above, none can resist." 

She finished, and the subtle fiend his lore 2 
Soon learned, now milder, and thus answered smooth : 

fe Dear daughter, since thou claim'st me for thy sire, 
And my fan son here show'st me, the dear pledge 
W ^Alliance had with thee in Heaven, and joys 

* ftir-f&>- Lesaon. 



4 



^ ^4 

b. ii. 8ao-86i. PARADISE LOST. 55 

Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change 

Befallen us unforeseen, unthought of; know 

I come no enemy, but to set free 

From out this dark and dismal house of pain 

Both him and thee, and all the heavenly host 

Of spirits, that in our just pretences armed 

Fell with us from on high : from them I go 

This uncouth errand sole, and, one for all, 

Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread 

The unsounded deep, and' through the void immense 

To search with wandering quest a place foretold 

Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now 

Created vast and round ; a place of bliss 

In the purlieus of Heaven, and therein placed 

A race of upstart creatures, to supply 

Perhaps our vacant room, though more removed. 

Lest Heaven, surcharged with potent multitude, 

Might hap to move new broils : be this or aught 

Than this more secret now designed, I haste 

To know, and, this once known, shall soon return, 

And bring ye to the place where thou and Death 

Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 

Wing silently the buxom 1 air, imbalmed 

With odours : there ye shall be fed and filled 

Immeasurably ; all things shall be your prey." 

He ceased, for both seemed highly pleased, and Dealt 
Grinned horrible a ghastly smile, to hear 
His famine should be filled, and blessed his maw 
Destined to that good hour : no less rejoiced 
His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire : 

" The key of this infernal pit by due, 
And by command of Heaven's all-powerful King 
I keep, by him forbidden to unlock 
These adamantine gates ; against all force 
Death ready stands to interpose his dart, 
Fearless to be o'ermatched by living might.* 
But what owe I to his commands above 
Who hates me, and hatli hither thrust me down 
Into this gloom of Tartarus profound, 
To sit in hateful office here confined, 
Inhabitant of Heaven, and heavenly-bom, 
Here in perpetual agony and pain, 



Flexible, yielding, 2 Others read ' wpht" 



i 



ih 



4 



56 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, n. n. 862-899, 

With terrors and with clamours compassed round 
Of mine own "brood, that on my bowels feed ? 
Thou art my father, thou my author, thou 
My being gavest me ; whom should I obey 
But thee ? whom follow ? thou wilt bring me soon 
To that new world of light and bliss, among 
The gods who live at ease, 1 where I shall reign 
At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems 
Thy daughter and thy darling, without end." 

Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, 
Sad instrument of all our woe, she took ; 
And towards the gate rolling her bestial train. 
Forthwith the huge portcullis high up drew, 
Which, but herself, not all the Stygian powers 
Could once have moved ; then in the key hole turns 
The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar 
Of massy iron or solid rock with ease 
Unfastens : on a sudden open fly, 
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 
The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook 
Of Erebus. She opened, but to shut 
Excelled her power ; the gates wide open stood, 
That with extended wings a bannered host 
Under spread ensigns marching might pass through 
With horse and chariots ranked in loose array ; 
So wide they stood, and like a furnace mouth 
Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame 
Before their eyes in sudden view appear 
The secrets of the hoary deep, a dark 
Illimitable ocean, without bound, 
Without dimension, where length, breadth, and height, 
And time, and place are lost ; where eldest Night 
And Chaos, ancestors of nature, 2 hoid 
Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise 
Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. 
For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions fierce, 
Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring 

1 Sin here speaks according to the Epicurean notion of the life cl 
the gods. See Lucret. i. 56, sq. Apul. de Deo Socratis. 

2 All the ancient naturalists, philosophers, and poets, hold that, 
Chaos was the first principle of all things ; and the poets particularly 
make Night a goddess, and represent Night, or darkness, and Chaoa 
n ir confusion, as exercising uncontrolled dominion from the begin- 



4- 






p. ii. 900-926 PARADISE LOST. 57 

Their embryon atoms; they around the flag 

Of each his faction, in their several clans. 

Light armed or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift, or slow, 

Swarm populous, unnumbered as the sands 

Of Barca or Cyrene's 1 torrid soil, 

Levied to side with warring winds, and poise 2 

Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere, 

He rules a moment ; Chaos umpire sits, 

And by decision more embroils the fray 

By which he reigns : next him high arbitei 

Chance governs all. Into this wild abyss, 

The womb of nature, and perhaps her grave,' 

Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor tire, 

But all these in then pregnant causes mixed 

Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, 

Unless the almighty Maker them ordain 

His dark materials to create more worlds ; 

Into this wild abyss the wary fiend 

Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while, 

Pondering his voyage ; for no narrow frith 

He had to cross. Nor was his ear less pealed 

With noises loud and ruinous (to compare 

Great things with small) than when Bellona storms, 

With all her battering engines bent to raze 

Some capital city ; or less than if this frame 

Of Heaven were falling, and these elements 

In mutiny had from her axle torn 

ning. Thus, the pseud- Orpheus, in the beginning of his hymn ta 
Night, addresses her as the mother of the gods and men, and origin 
df all things. 

So, also, Spenser, in imitation of the ancients, F. Q. b. 1, c. 5, 
8t. 22 :— 

" thou most ancient grandmother of all, 
More old than Jove," &c. 

A.nd our author's system of the universe is, in short, that the empy- 
rean Heaven, and Chaos and darkness, were before the creation-^ 
Heaven above, and Chaos beneath ; and then, upon the rebellion of 
the angels, first Hell was formed out of Chaos " stretching far and wide 
beneath ;" and afterwards " Heaven and Earth, another world hang- 
ing o'er the realm of Chaos, and won from his dominion." See ver 
1002, &c. and 978.— Newton. 

1 A city and province of Libya. 

2 i. e. give weight or ballast to 

3 Lucret. v. 260, " Omniparens, eadem rerum commune sepal 
thrum." — Thyer. 



$•■ 



4 



*w 



.J;u 



58 MILTON' S POETICAL WORKS. 8.11.927-958. 

The stedfast earth. At last his sail-broad vans * 

He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoke 

Uplifted spurns the ground ; thence many a league, 

As in a cloudy chair, ascending rides 

Audacious ; but, that seat soon failing, meets 

A vast vacuity: all unawares, 

Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb down he drops 

Ten thousand fathom deep, and to this hour 

"^own had been falling, had not by ill chance 

The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud, 

Instinct with fee and nitre, hurried him 

As many miles aloft : that fury stayed, 

Quenched in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea, 

Nor good dry land ; 2 nigh foundered, on he fare? 

Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, 

Half flying ; behoves him now 3 both oar and sail 

As when a gryphon 4 through the wilderness 

With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, 

Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth 

Had from his wakeful custody purloined 

The guarded gold : so eagerly the fiend 

O'er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, 

With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, 

And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies ; 

At length a universal hubbub wild 

Of stunning sounds and voices all confused, 

Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear 

With loudest vehemence : thither he plies, 

Undaunted, to meet there whatever power 

Or spirit of the nethermost abyss 

Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask 

Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies 

1 As the air and water are both fluids, the metaphors taken from 
the one are often applied to the other, and flying is compared to 
jailing, and sailing to flying. — Newton. 

3 From Lucan, ix. 304. 

3 i. e. he now need use. 

4 Gryphons are fabulous creatures, in the apper part like an eagle^ 
in the lower resembling a lion, and are said to guard gold mines. 
The Arimaspians were a one-eyed people of Scythia, who adorned 
their hair with gold, Lucan. hi. 280. Herodotus and other authors 
relate, that there were continual wars between the gryphons and Ari 
maspians about gold, the gryphons guarding it, and the Arimaspians 
taking it whenever they had opportunity- See Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 7, 
nap 2. — Neivton, 



4* 



4* 



PARADISE LOST. 59 

Bordering on light ; when straight behold the thror;*> 
Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 
Wide on the wasteful deep ; with him enthroned 
at sahle-vested Night, eldest of things, 
Hie consort of his reign, and by thern stood 
Oreus and Ades, 1 and the dreaded name 
Of Demogorgon; 2 Rumour next and Chance, 
And Tumult and Confusion all embroiled, 
And Discord with a thousand various mouths. 

To whom Satan tinning boldly, thus : " Ye powers 
And spirits of this nethermost abyss, 
Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, 
With purpose to explore or to disturb 

Orcus is generally by the poets taken for Pluto, as Ades for an> 
dark place. These terms are of a very vague signification, and em- 
ployed by the ancient poets accordingly. Milton has personize«. 
them, and put them in the court of Chaos. — Richardson. 

2 There was a notion among the ancients of a certain deity, whose 
very name they supposed capable of producing the most terrible 
effects, and -which they therefore dreaded to prone mce. This deity 
is mentioned as of great power in incantations. Thus Erictho is 
introduced, threatening the infernal powers for being too slow in 
then- obedience, by Lucan, Phar. vi. 744 : — 

" Yet, am I yet, ye sullen fiends, obeyed? 
Or must I call your master to my aid, 
At whose dread name the trembling furies quake, 
Hell stands abashed, and earth's foundations shake, 
Who views the Gorgons with intrepid eyes, 
And your inviolable flood defies?"— Rowe. 

And, likewise, Tiresias, by Statius, Thebaid iv. 514. And Ismen 
threatens in the same strain in Tasso, Cant. xiii. st. 10 : — 

" I have not yet forgot for want of use, 
What dreadful terms belong this sacred seat, 
My tongue (if still your stubborn hearts refuse) 
That so much dreaded name can well repeat, j 

Which heard great Dis cannot himself excuse, 
But hither run from his eternal seat." — Fairfax. 

The name cf this deity is Demogorgon^ which some think a cor- 
ruption of Demiurgus ; others imagine him to be so called, as being 
able to look upon the Gorgon, that turned all other spectators to 
etone ; and to this Lucan seems to allude, when he says : — 

" — qui Gorgona cernit apertam." 

Spenaer, too, mentions this infernal deity, F. Q. b.i, cant.5,st.22 :— 

" Which wast begot in Demogorgon's hall, 
And saw'st the secrets of the w.-rld unmade •" 



$< $. 



X 



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4> 



bo MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, n. n. 972-998. 

The secrets l of your realm, but by constraint 
Wandering this darksome desert, as my way 
Lies through your spacious empire up to light, 
Alone, and without guide, half lost, I seek 
What readiest path leads where your gloomy boundn 
Confine with Heaven ; or if some other place, 
From your dominion won, the ethereal king 
Possesses lately, thither to arrive 
I travel this profound ; direct my course ; 
Directed, 2 no mean recompense it brings 
To your behoof, if I that region lost, 
All usurpation thence expelled, reduce 
To her original darkness and your sway 
(Which is my present journey), and once more 
Erect the standard there of ancient Night ; 
Yours be the advantage all, mine the revenge " 
Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old, 
With faltering speech and visage incomposed, 
Answered : " I know thee, stranger, who thou art : 
That mighty leading angel, who of late 
Made head against Heaven's King, though overthrown. 
I saw and heard, for such a numerous host 
Fled not in silence through the frighted deep 
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, 
Confusion worse confounded; and Heaven-gates 
Poured out by millions her victorious bands 
Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here 

and places hirn, likewise, in the immense abyss with Chaos, B. 4, 
Mint. 2. st. 47 : — 

" Down in the bottom of the deep abyss, 
Where Demogorgon in dull darkness pent, 
Far from the view of gods and heaven's bliss, 
The hideous Chaos keeps, their dreadful dwelling is : " 

and takes notice also of the dreadful effects of his name, B. i. c. 1. 

st. 37:— 

" A. bold bad man, that dared to call by name 

Great Gorgon, prince of darkness and dead night, 
At which Cocytus quakes, and Styx is put to. flight." 

Well, therefore, might Milton distinguish him by " the dreadiA. 
name of Demogorgon : " and "the name of Demogorgon" is as mucfl 
as to say Demogorgon himself, as in Virgil JEn. vi. 763. Alba*vj» 
somen is a man of Alba, Mn. xii. 515. — Newton. 

1 s. e. secret places. 

1 i. e. if you direct me, you will reap no little recompennR. 



+& 



T 



f 



r. ii. 999-1019. PARADISE LOST. 61 

Keep residence, if all I can will serve 
That little which is left so to defend, 
Encroached on still through your intestine hroils, 
Weakening the sceptre of old Night : first Hell, 
Your dungeon, stretching far and wide beneath; 
Now lately Heaven and Earth, another world, 
Hung o'er rny realm, linked in a golden chain * 
To that side Heaven from whence your legions fell 3 
If that way he your walk, you have not far ; 
80 much the nearer danger ; go and speed ; 
Havoc, and spoil, and ruin, are my gain." 

He ceased ; and Satan stayed not to reply, 
But glad that now his sea should find a shore, 
With fresh alacrity and force renewed 
Springs upward, like a pyramid of fire, 
Into the wild expanse, and through the shock 
Of fighting elements, on all sides round 
Environed, wins his way, harder beset 
And more endangered, than when Argo 2 passed 
Through Bosphorus betwixt the justling rocks; 
Or when Ulysses 3 on the larboard shunned 

1 An idea taken from Horner, II. viii. 

2 The first long ship ever seen in Greece, in which Jason and his 
companions sailed to Colchis to fetch the golden fleece. " Through 
Bosphorus," the Thracian Bosphorus, or the Straits of Constantinople, 
or the channel of the Black Sea. " Betwixt the justling rocks," two 
rocks at the entrance into the Euxine, or Black Sea, called in Greek, 
" symplegades," and hy Juvenal, " concurrentia saxa," Sat. xv. 19, 
which Milton very well translates " the justling rocks," hecause they 
were so near, that, a distance, they seemed to open and shut again, 
and justle one another, as the ship varied its course this way and that 
as usual.- — Newton. 

3 These two verses Bentley would throw quite away. " Larboard,'' 
(he says) is ahominahle in heroic poetry; hut Dryden (as the doctor 
owns) thought it not unfit to he employed there ; and Milton in other 
places has used nautical terms, without heing censured for it. So in 
ix. 513, he speaks of " working a ship," of " veerkig and shifting ;" and 
in i. 207, of " mooring under the lee." But he has also two very 
formidable objections against the sense of these verses. First, he 
says that larboard, or left hand, is a mistake here for starboard, or 
right hand, Charybdis being to the starboard of Ulysses when he 
sailed through these straits. This is true, but it does not affect what 
Milton here says ; for the sense may be, not that Ulysses shunned 
Charybdis situated on the larboard of his ship as he was sailing; bat 
that Ulysses sailing on the larboard (to the left hand where Scyllawas") 
did thereby shun Charybdis ; which was the truth of the case. His 
%ther objection is, that Scylla was no whirlpool which yet she is 



4" 



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h4 



A+ 



62 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. 11.1020-1051. 

Charybdis, and by the other whirlpool steered 
So he with difficulty and labour hard 
Moved on, with difficulty and labour he ; 
But he once passed, soon after, when man fell, 
Strange alteration ! Sin and Death amain 
Following his track (such was the will of Heaven), 
Paved after him a broad and beaten way 
Over the dark abyss, whose boiling gulf 
Tamely endured a bridge of wondrous length 
From Hell continued, reaching the utmost orb 
Of this frail world, by which the spirits perverse 
With easy intercourse pass to and fro 
To tempt or punish mortals, except whom 
God and good angels guard by special grace 
But now at last the sacred influence 
Of light appears, and from the walls of Heaven 
Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night 
A glimmering dawn ; here Nature first begins 
Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire, 
As from her outmost works, a broken foe, 
With tumult less, and with less hostile din, 
That Satan with less toil, and now with ease, 
Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light, 
And like a weather-beaten vessel holds 
Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torr, , 
Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, 
Weighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold 
Far off the empyreal Heaven, extended wide 
In circuit, undetermined square or round, 
With opal towers and battlements adorned 
Of living sapphire, once his native seat ; 
And fast by, hanging in a golden chain, 

here supposed to have been. But Virgil (whom Milton follows 
oftener than he does Homer) describes Scylla as " naves in saxa 
trahentem," iEn. iii. 425, and what is that less than calling it a 
whirlpool? And Kircher, who has written a particular account of 
Scylla and Charybdis upon his own view of them, does not scruple 
to call them both whirlpools. The truth is, that Scylla is a rock 
situated in a small bay on the Italian coast, into which bay the tide 
Jans with a very strong current, so as to draw in the ships which are 
within the compass of its force, and either dash them against tha 
rock, or swallow them in the eddies ; for when the streams have thus 
violently rushed into the bay, they meet with the rock Scylla at the 
farther end, and being beat back, must, therefore, form an eddy o* 
whirlpool. — Pearce 



+&* 



*w 



PAfiADISE LOST. 6j 

This pendent world, 1 in bigness as a star 
Of smallest magnitude close by the mooc. 
Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge; 
iccursed, and in a cursed hour, he hies 

1 By " this pendent world" is not meant the earth; bat the new 
jreation, Heaven and Earth, the whole orb of fixed stars immensely 
bigger than the earth, a mere point in comparison. This is sura 
•-oni what Chaos had lately said : — 

" Now lately Heaven and Earth, another world, 
Hung o'er my realm, linked in a golden chain." 

Besides, Satan did not see the Earth yet; he was afterwards surprised 
" at the sudden view of all this world at once," iii. 542, and wan- 
dei'ed long on the outside of it; till at last he saw our sun, and 
learned there of the archangel Uriel where the Earth and Paradise 
were. See iii. 722. " This pendent world," therefore, must mean 
the whole world, the new created universe, and " beheld far off" it 
appeared in comparison with the empyreal Heaven no bigger than <: a 
^tar of smallest magnitude ;" nay, not so large ; it appeared no bigger 
than such a star appears to be when it is " close by the moon," the 
superior light whereof makes any star that happens to be near her 
Hirk, to fveem er.coodin/4y sjnnll nail Almost disappear, — Newton 



♦<|H : — : : >4h 



&« — ^ 

64 MIL TON'S POETICAL WORKS. b. hi, x~ 6 . 



BOOK III. 



THE ARGUMENT, 

God, sitting on Lis throne, sees Satan flying towards this world, then 
newly created ; shows him to the Son, who sat at his right hana\ 
foretells the success of Satan in perverting mankind; clears his 
own justice and wisdom from all imputation, having created Man 
free and able enough to have withstood his tempter ; yet declares 
his purpose of grace towards him, in regard he fell not of his own 
malice, as did Satan, hut by him seduced. The Son of God ren- 
ders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his gracious 
purpose towards man ; but God again declares that grace cannot 
be extended towards man without the satisfaction of divine justice ; 
man hath offended the majesty of God by aspiring to godhead, and 
therefore with all his progeny devoted to death must die, unless 
some one can be found sufficient to answer for his offence, and 
undergo his punishment. The Son of God freely offers himself 
a ransom for man ; the Father accepts him, ordains his incarna- 
tion, pronounces his exaltation above all names in Heaven and 
Earth ; commands all the angels to adore him ; they obey, and 
hymning to tbeir harps in full quire, celebrate the Father and the 
Son. Meanwile Satan alights upon the bare convex of this world's 
outermost orb ; where wandering he first finds a place, since called 
the Limbo of Vanity ; what persons and things fly up thither ; thence 
comes to the gate of Heaven, described ascending by stairs, and 
the waters above the firmament that flow about it: his passage 
thence to the orb of the sun ; he finds there Uriel, the regent of that 
orb, but first changes himself into the shape of a meaner angel; 
and pretending a zealous desire to behold the new creation, and 
man whom God had placed here, inquires of him the place of his 
habitation, and is directed; alights first on Mount Niphates. 

Hail, holy Light ! offspring of Heaven firstborn. 

Or of the Eternal eoeternal beam, 

May I express thee unbiamed ? since God is light, 1 

And never but in unapproached light 

Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 

Bright effluence of bright essence increate 

1 IJohn, i. 5; 1 Tim. vi. 16. 



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a. in. 7- 2S . PARADISE LOST. 65 

Or hear'st thou 1 rather pure ethereal stream. 

Whose fountain who shall tell ? before the sun, 

Before the Heaven thou wert ; and at the voice 

Of God, as with a mantle didst invest 

The rising weald of waters dark and deep, 2 

Won from the void 3 and formless infinite 

Thee I revisit now with holder wing, 

Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detained 

In that ohscure sojourn, while in my flight 

Through utter and through middle 4 darkness borne 

With other notes than to the Orphean 1; re 

I sung of Chaos 5 and eternal Night ; 

Taught by the heavenly muse to venture down 

The dark descent, and up to re-ascend, 

Though hard and rare : thee I revisit safe, 

And feel thy sovereign vital lamp ; but thou 

Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain 

To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; 

So thick a drop serene 6 hath quenched their orbs. 

1 Or dost thou rather hear this address, dost thou delight rathei 
I) be called " pure ethereal stream ?" An excellent Latinism, as Dr. 

Bontley observes, Hor. Sat. II. vi. 20 : — 

" Matutine pater seu Jane libentius audis?" 

And we have an expression of the same kind in Spenser, Faerie Queen, 
b. i., c. v., st. 23 :— 

" If old Aveugle's sons so evil hear." — New Ion. 

2 For the world was only in a state of fluidity, when the light was 
created ; as Moses says, " The Spirit of God moved upon the face 
of the waters ; and God said, Let there be light, and there was light," 
Gen. i. 2, 3. And this verse is plainly formed upon this of Spense"' 
Faerie Queen, b. i., c. i., st. 39 ■ — 

" And through the world of waters wide and deep." 

— Newton. 

3 " Void" must not here be understood as emptiness, for Chaos i3 
J escribed full of matter; but "void," as destitute of any formed 
being, void as the earth was when first created. — Richardson 

4 1. e. the great gulf between Hell and Heaven. 

* Apollonius, Pth. i. 493, represents Orpheus making the creation 
out of Chaos the subject of his muse. 

6 " Drop serene," or gutta serena. It was formerly thought that 
that sort of blindess was an incurable extinction or quenching of 
sight by a transparent, watery, cold humour, distilling upon the 
optic nerve, though making very little change in the eye to appear 
tmce, if any; 'tis now known to be most commonly an obstruction ii' 
the capillary vessels of that nerve, and curable in some cases. When 
Milton was Irst blind, ho 7rrote to hio *"ymd Leonard Philara, nv 



A, 



66 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, B.m.26-4? 

Or dim suffusion veiled. Yet not the more 1 
Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt 
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 
Smit with the love of sacred song ; but chief 
Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks 2 beneath, 
That wash thy hallowed feet, and warbling flow, 
Nightly I visit : nor sometimes forget 3 
Those other two equalled with me in fate, 
So were I equalled with them in renown, 
Blind Thamyris 4 and blind Mseonides, 5 
And Tiresias 6 and Phineas, 7 prophets old : 
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
Harmonious numbers ; as the wakeful bird 
Sings darkling, 8 and in shadiest covert hid 
Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the } r ear 
Seasons return, but not to me returns 
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, 
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 
Surrounds me ; from the cheerful ways of men 
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair 
Presented with a universal blank 9 

Athenian then at Paris, for him to consult Dr. Thevenot ; he sent his 
case ('tis in the 15th of his familiar letters); what answer he had 
is not known ; but it seems by this passage that he was not certain 
what his disease was ; or perhaps he had a mind to describe both the 
great causes of blindness according to what was known at that time, 
as his whole poem is interspersed with great variety of learning. — 
Jiichardson: 

1 i.e. yet on that account I do not cease. 

2 Kedron and Siloah. 

3 i.e. and sometimes not forget. 

4 Thamyris is an early bard mentioned by Homer, II. ii. 595. 

5 Homer. 

6 A Theban soothsayer. 
"1 A king of Arcadia. 

8 This word was said to have been coined by Milton, but it is also 
used by Shakspeare. 

9 Dr. Bentley reads "all nature's map, &c," because (he says) 
*'a blank of works" is an unphilosophical expression. If so, and if 
the sentence must terminate at " blank," why may we not read — 

" Presented with an universal blank ; 
All nature's works to me expunged and rased," 

that is, all nature's works being, in respect to the "universal blank," 
^r absence of light from me, expunged to me and rased.— Pcarce. 



r 



•y* 



7 



mh. 49-8* PARADISE LOST, 67 



Of nature's works to ine expunged and rased, 

And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out 

So much the rather thou, celestial Light, 

Shine inward, and the mind through all her po^exs 

Irradiate ; there plant eyes, all mist from thence 

Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell 

Of things invisible to mortal sight. 

Now had the Almighty Father from above, 1 
From the pure empyrean where he sits 
High throned above all height, bent down his eys, 
His own works and their works at once to view 
About him all the sanctities of Heaven 
Stood thick as stars, and from his sight received 
Beatitude past utterance ; on his right 
The radiant image of his glory sat, 
His only Son ; on earth he first beheld 
Our two first parents, yet the only two 
Of mankind, in the happy garden placed, 
Reaping immortal fruits of joy and loye, 
Uninterrupted joy, unrivalled love, 
In blissful solitude ; he then surveyed 
Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there 
Coasting the wall of Heaven on this side Night, 
In the dun air sublime, and ready now 
To stoop with wearied wings and willing feet 
On the bare outside of this world, that seemed 
Firm land embosomed, without firmament, 
Uncertain which, in ocean or in air 
Him God beholding from his prospect high, 
Wherein past, present, future, he beholds, 
Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake : 

" Only begotten Son, seest thou what rage 
Transports our adversary ? whom no bounde 
Prescribed, no bars of Hell, nor all the chains 
Heaped on him there, nor yet the main abyss 

Compare Tasso, i. 7 :— 

" When God Almighty from his lofty throne, 
Set in those parts of Heaven that purest srs 
(As far above the clear stars every one, 
As it is hence up to the highest star), 
Looked clown, and all at once this world beheld, 
Each land, each city, country, town, and field." 

— Fairfax, 'l teptst 



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> 



68 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ni. 84-12*. 

Wide interrupt, 1 can hold ; so bent he seems 
On desperate revenge, that shall redound 
Tpon his own rebellious head. And now 
Through all restraint broke loose he wings his *?ay 
Not far off Heaven, in the precincts of light, 
Directly towards the new-created world, 
And man there placed, with purpose to essay 
1 f him by force he can destroy, or worse, 
By some false guile pervert ; and shall pervert, 
For man will hearken to his glozing lies, 
And easily transgress tbe sole command, 
Sole pledge of his obedience : so will fall, 
He and Ms faithless progeny : whose fault ? 
Whose but his own ? Ingrate, he had of me 
All he could have : I made him just and right, 
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. 
Such I created all the ethereal powers 
And spirits, both them who stood, and them who failed ;* 
Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. 
Not free, what proof could they have given sincere 
Of true allegiance, constant faith or love, 
Where only what they need e must do appeared, 
Not what they would ? what praise could they receive ? 
What pleasure I from such obedience paid, 
When will and reason (reason also is choice) 
_ess and vain, of freedom both despoiled, 
Made passive both, had served necessity, 
Not me ? They therefore as to right belonged, 
So were created, nor can justly accuse 
Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, 
As if predestination over-ruled 
Their will, disposed by absolute decree 
Or high foreknowledge ; they themselves decreed 
Their own revolt, not I ; if 3 I foreknew, 
Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, 
Which had no less proved certain unforeknown. 
So without least impulse or shadow of fate, 
Or aught by me immutably foreseen, 4 

4 Broken. 

'Read " fell," with Bentley, to preserve the antithesis. 
8 i, c though; for he expresses no doubt on the subject. 
4 To "foresee immutably" (says Dr. Bentley) are two ideas that 
rtnnol unite : he thinks, therefore, that Milton must have given ii 

'<|) « '• " ^ 



». in. 122-156. PARADISE LOST. 69 

They trespass, authors to themselves in all, 
Both what they judge and what they choose ; for s® 
I formed them free, and free they must remain, 
Till they enthral themselves ; I else must change 
Their nature, and revoke the high decree 
Unchangeable, eternal, which ordained 
Their freedom : they themselves ordained their fall 
The first sort by their own suggestion fell, 
Self tempted, self-depraved : man falls deceived 
By the other first ; man therefore shall find grace. 
The other none : in mercy and justice both, 
Through Heaven and earth, so shall my glory excel \ 
But mercy, first and last, shall brightest shine." 

Thus while God spake ambrosial fragrance fillo! 
All Heaven, and in the blessed spirits elect 
Sense of new joy ineffable diffused : 
Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
Most glorious; in him all his Father shone 
Substantially expressed; 1 and in his face 
Divine compassion visibly appeared, 
Love without end, and without measure grace, 
Which uttering thus he to his Father spake : 

" Father, gracious was that word which closed 
Th y sovereign sentence, that man should find grace ; 
Fur which both Heaven and earth shall high extol 
Thy praises, with the innumerable sound 2 
Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne 
Encompassed shall resound thee ever blest. 
For should man finally be lost, should man, 
Thy creature late so loved, thy yoimgest son, 
Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though joined 
With his own foJly ? that be from thee far, 
That far be from thee, Father, who art judge 
Of all things made, and jndgest only right. 
Or shall the adversary thus obtain 

" immutably foredoomed." His objection is right, but his emendation 
is wrong, I think. Milton seems rather to have dictated — 

" Or aught by me ' immutable ' foreseen," 
where " aught immutable " may signify any event that cannot be 
changed or altered. — Pearce, 

"Immutably foreseen" seems to mean so foreseen as to be immt- 
tabls. — Newton. 

1 C£ Heb. i. 3. 

• Compare ' 101, " innumerable force of spirits 



<h 



r 



yo 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. hi. 157-^S. 



■^ 



His end, and frustrate thine ? shall he fulfil 
His malice, and thy goodness bring to nought. 
Or proud return, though to his heavier doom, 
Yet with revenge accomplished, and to Hell 
Draw after him the whole race of mankind, 
By him corrupted ? or wilt then thyself 
Aoolish thy creation, and. unmake 
For him, what for thy glory thou hast made? 
So should thy goodness and thy greatness both 
Be questi oned and blasphemed without defence r 

To whom the great Creator thus replied : 
1 Son, in whom my soul hath chief delight, 
6011 of my bosom, Son who art alone 
My word, my wisdom, and effectual might, 

All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all 

As my eternal purpose hath decreed : 

Man shall not quite be lost, but saved who will, 
Yet not )f will in him, but grace in me 

Freely vouchsafed; once juore I will renew 

His lapsed powers, though forfeit and enthralled 

By sin to foul exorbitant desires ; 

Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand 

On even ground against Iris mortal foe, 

By me upheld, that he may know how frail 

His fallen condition is, and to me owe 

All his deliverance, and to none but me 

Some I have chosen of peculiar grace 1 

Elect above the rest ; so is my will ■ 

The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warned 

Their sinful state, and to appease betimes 

The incensed Deity, while offered grace 

Invites ; for l will clear their senses dark, 

What may suffice, and soften stony hearts 

To pray, repent, and bring obedience due 

to prayer, repentance, and obedience due, 

Though but endeavoured with sincere intent, 

Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut 

And I will place within them as a guide 

My umpire Conscience, whom if they will hear, 

1 Our author did not hold the doctrine of rigid predestination : fee 
ffas of the sentiments of the more moderate Calvinist9. and thought 
fcist some indeed were elected of peculiar grace, tfie rest might be 
saved complying with the terms and conditions 0* the ^spel,— 

KflPfaNftt 



-ih 



*A 



b. in. 196-231. PAfiADISE LOST. 71 

Light after light well used they shall attain, 

And to the end persisting, safe arrive. 

This my long sufferance and my day of grace, 1 

They who neglect and scorn shall never taste ; 

But hard he hardened, blind he blinded more, 

That they may stumble on, and deeper fall , 

And none but such from mercy I exclude 

But yet all is not done : man disobeying, 

Disloyal breaks Ms fealty, and sins 

Against the high supremacy of Heaven, 

Affecting godhead, and so losing all, 

To expiate his treason hath nought left, 

But to destruction sacred and devote, 

He with his whole posterity must die. 

Die he or justice must ; unless for him 

Some other able, and as willing, pay 

The rigid satisfaction — death for death. 

Say, heavenly powers, where shall we find such love ? 

Which of ye will be mortal to redeem 

Man's mortal crime, and just the unjust to save '? 

Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear ? " 

He asked ; but all the heavenly quire stood mute, 
And silence was in Heaven : on man's behalf 
Patron or intercessor none appeared, 
Much less that durst upon his own head draw 
The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
And now without redemption all mankind 
Must have been lost, adjudged to death and Hell 
By doom severe, had not the Son of God, 
Jn whom the fullness dwells of love divine, 
His dearest mediation thus renewed : 

" Father, thy word is past, man shall find grace , 
And shall grace not find means, that finds her way 
The speediest of thy winged messengers, 
To visit all thy creatures, and to all 
Comes uuprevented, 2 unimplored, unsought ? 

1 It is a great pity that our author should have thus debased th 
dignity of the Deity by putting in his mouth this horrid doctrine of a 
day of grace, after which it is not possible for a man to repent; and 
there can be no sort of excuse for him, except the candid reader •will 
make some allowance for the prejudices which he might possibly 
receive from the gloomy divinity of that enthusiastic age in which he 
Uved. — Thyer. 

i. e. unanticipated, from prevenire, to come before. Cf. Ps. lxxxviii 
18. The word is commonly so use&Au our Articles and T.iiargy 



4 



<> 



♦A 



■Hi- 



MILTOM'S POETICAL WORK* »»«. 233-273, 

Happy for man, so coming ; lie her aid 
Can never seek, once dead in sins and lost, 
Atonement for himself or offering meet, 
Indebted and undone, hath none to bring . 
Behold me then ; me for him, life for life, 
I offer ; on me let thine anger fall ; 
Account me man; I for his sake will leave 
Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee 
Freely put off, and for him lastly die 
Well pleased ; on me let Death wreak all his rage , 
Under Ms gloomy power I shall not long 
Lie vanquished ; thou hast given me to possess 
Life in myself for ever ; by thee I live, 
Though now to Death I yield, and am his due 
All that of me can die ; yet that debt paid, 
Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave 
His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul 
For ever with corruption there to dwell ; l 
But I shall rise victorious, and subdue 
Mv vanquisher, spoiled of his vaunted spoil , 
De& h his death's wound shall then receive, and stoop 
Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarmed. 
I through the ample air in triumph high 
Shall lead Hell captive, maugre Hell, and show 
The powers of darkness bound. Thou at the sight 
Pleased, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile, 
While by thee raised I ruin all my foes, 
Death last, and with his carcass glut the grave 
Then with the multitude of my redeemed 
Shall enter Heaven, long absent, and return 
Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud 
Of anger shall remain, but peace assured 
And reconcilement; wrath shall be no more 
Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire." 
His words here ended, but his meek aspect 
Silent yet spake, and breathed immortal love 
To mortal men, abo e which only shone 
Filial obedience ; as acrifice 
Glad to be offered, 2 he attends the will 
Of his erreat Father. Admiration seized 
All Heaven, what this might mean, and whither tend 
Wondering ; but soon the Almighty thus replied : 

Cf. P«. rri. 10, Acts ii. 20, sq. 8 Alluding to Ps. xl. 6 



•ffi> 



4- 



b. in. 874-304. PARADISE LOST, 73 



4* 



" thou, in Heaven and earth the only peace 
Found out for mankind under wrath, O thou 
My sole complacence ! well thou know'st how dc: 
To me are all my works, nor man the least, 
Though last created ; that for him I spare 
Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save, 
By losing thee awhile, the whole race lost. 
Thou therefore, whom thou only canst redeem, 
Their nature also to thy nature join ; 
And be thyself man among men on earth, 
Made flesh, when time shall be, of virgin seed, 
By wondrous birth : be thou in Adam's room 
The head of all mankind, though Adam's son 
As in him perish all men, so in thee, 
A.s from a second root, shall be restored 
As many as are restored, without thee none ; 
His crime makes guilty all his sons, thy merit 
Imputed shall absolve them who renounce 
Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, 
And live in thee transplanted, and from thee 
Receive new life. So man, as is most just, 
Shall satisfy for man, be judged and die, 
And dying rise, and rising with him raise 
His brethren, ransomed with his own dear life 
So heavenly love shall outdo hellish hate, 
Griving to death, and dying to redeem, 1 
So dearly to redeem what hellish hate 
So easily destroyed, and still destroys 
En those who, when they may, accept not grace 
Nor shalt thou, by descending to assume 
Man's nature, lessen or degrade thine own 



1 The love of the Father in giving the Son to death, and the love 
%i the Son in submitting to it and dying to redeem mankind. Mr. 
Warburton thus explains it : — " Milton's system of divinity taught," 
eav s he, " not only that man was redeemed, but likewise that a real 
price was paid for his redemption ; ' dying to redeem,' therefore, sig- 
nifying only redemption in a vague uncertain sense, but Imperfectly 
^presents his system ; so imperfectly that it may as well be called 
the Socinian; the price paid (which implies a proper redemption) is 
wanting. But to pay a price implying a voluntary act, the poet there- 
fore well expresses it by ' giving to death ;' that is, giving himself to 
death ; so that the sense of the line fully expresses Milton's notion 
Heavenly love gave a price for the redemption of mankind, and b* 
Virtue of that price really redeemed them.' " — Newton 



4 



-HKfr* 



74 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. hi. 3 os-34S. 

Because thou hast, though throned on highest bliss 

'Equal to God, and equally enjoying 

(jrod-like fruition, quitted all to save 

A world from utter loss, and hast been found 

JBy merit more than birthright Son of God, 

Found worthiest to be so by being good, 

Far more than great or high , because in thee 

Love hath aboimded more than glory abounds, 

Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt 

With thee thy manhood also to this throne , 

ilere shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign 

Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man 8 

Anointed universal King ; al] power 

I give thee ; reign for ever, and assume 

Thy merits ; under thee as head supreme 

Thrones, princedoms, powers, dominions I reduce : 

All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide 

In Heaven, or earth, or under earth in Hell. 

When thou, attended gloriously from Heaven, 

Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send 

The summoning archangels to proclaim 

Thy dread tribunal ; forthwith from all winds 

The living, and forthwith the cited dead 

Of all past ages, to the general doom 

Shall hasten, such a peal shall rouse then sleep 

Then, all thy saints assembled, thou shalt judge 

Bad men and angels; they arraigned shall sink 

Beneath thy sentence ; Hell, her numbers full, 

Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Meanwhile 

The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring 

New Heaven and earth, wherein the just shall dwell, 

And after all their tribulations long 

tiee golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, 

With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth. 

Then thou thy regal sceptre shalt Jay by, 

For regal sceptre then no more shall need 

God shall be all in all. But, all ye gods. 1 

Adore him, who to compass all this dies; 

Adore the Son, and honour him as me." 

No sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all 
The multitude of angels, with a shout 

1 From Ps. xcvii., "Worship him, all ye gods," which St. Paul 
Jl<:b. i. 0) expresses by " all the wigols of God." 



+fy* 



* 



b in. 346-367. PARADISE LOST. 7$ 

Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 

A.s from blest voices,, uttering joy, Heaven rang 

With jubilee, and loud Hosaunas filled 

Hie eternal regions : lowly reverent 

Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground 

With solemn adoration down they cast 1 

Their crowns enwove with amarant and gold , 

Immortal amarant, 2 a flower which once 

Tn Paradise, fast by the tree of life, 

Began to bloom; but soon tor man's offence 

To Heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows, 

And flowers aloft shading the fount of life, 

And where the river of bliss through midst of Heaven 

Rolls o'er 3 Elysian flowers her amber stream ; 

With these, that never fade, the spirits elect 

Bind their resplendent locks enwreathed with beams 

Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright 

Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 

Empurpled with celestial roses, smiled. 4 

Then, crowned again, their golden harps they took, 

Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side 

Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet 

Kev. iv. 10. 

2 " Amarant," Afiapavrog, Greek, for unfading, that decayeth not ; a 
flower of a purple velvet colour, which, though gathered, keeps its 
beauty, and when all other flowers fade, recovers its lustre by being 
sprinkled with a little water, as Pliny affirms, lib. xxi., c. 11. Our 
author seems to have taken this hint from 1 Pet. i. 4, " To an inherit- 
ance incorruptible, undented, and that fadeth not away," a\iapavTov\ 
and 1 Pet. v. 4, "Ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not 
away," a^iapavrivov, roth relating to the name of his everlasting 
" amarant," which he has finely set near the tree of life. " Amaran- 
tus flos, symbolum est immortalitatis." — Clem. Alexand. Hume. 

3 We frequently see grass, and weeds, and flowers, growing undei 
water ; and we may therefore suppose the finest flowers to grow at 
the bottom of the "river of bliss," or rather the river to "roll over" 
them sometimes, to water them. The author seems to intend much 
the same thing that he has expressed in iv. 240, where, speaking of the 
brooks in Paradise, he says, they — 

" Pan nectar, visiting each plant, and fed 
Flowers worthy of Paradise." 

And as there they are flowers " worthy of Paradise," so here they flifi 
arorthv of "Elysium," the region of the blessed. — Newton. 
« Cf. Spenser, F. Q. iii. 7, 16 :— 

"Whose sides unpurpled were with smiling red." 



+& 



^ r~ 



*4>*- 



76 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. m. 368-397. 

Of charming symphony thev introduce 
Their sacred song, and waken raptures high , 
No voice exempt, no voice but well could jcin 
Melodious part, such concord is in Heaven 

" Thee, Father," first they sung, " Omnipotent, 
Immutable, Immortal, Infinite, 
Eternal King : thee, Author of all being, 
Fountain of light, thyself invisible 
Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sitt'st 
Throned inaccessible, but 1 when thou shad'st 
The full blaze of thy beams, and through a cloud 
Drawn round about thee like a radiant shrine, 
Dark with excessive bright 2 thy skirts appear, 
Yet dazzle Heaven, that brightest seraphim 
Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. 5 
Thee," next they sang, " of all creation first, 
Begotten Son, Divine Similitude, 
In whose conspicuous count'nance, without cloud 
Made visible, the Almighty Father shines, 
Whom else no creature can behold ; 4 on thee 
Impressed the effulgence of his glory abides, 
Transfused on thee his ample Spirit rests 
He Heaven of Heavens, and all the powers therein 
By thee created, and by thee threw down 
The aspiring dominations : thou that day 
Thy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare, 
Nor stop thy flaming chariot wheels, that shook 
Heaven's everlasting frame, while o'er the necks 
Thou drov'st of warring angels disarrayed. 
Back from pursuit thy powers with loud acclaim 

1 t. e. except. 

2 Milton has the same thought of darkness occasioned by glory 
7. 599, " Brightness had made invisible." This also explains hie 
meaning here ; the excess of brightness had the effect of darkness, 
invisibility. What an idea of glory ! the skirts only not to be looked 
on by the beings nearest to God, but when doubly or trebly shaded by 
a cloud and both wings. What, then, is the full blaze ? — Richardson. 

The same thought in Spenser's hymn of Heavenly Beauty, but more 
languidly expressed : — 

" With the great glory of that wondrous light, 
His throne is all encompassed around, 
And hid in his own brightness from the sight 
Of all that look thereon," &c. — Thyer. 

i Cf. Is. ri. 8. « John i- 18. xiv. 9. 



4 



ff) 



t. hi. 398-431- PA XA VISE LOST. 77 

jChee only ! extolled, Son of thy Father s might, 
To execute fierce vengeance on his foes, 
Not so on man : him, through their malice fallen, 
Father of mercy and grace, thou didst not doom 
So strictly, hut much more to pity incline : 
No sooner did thy dear and only Son 
Perceive thee purposed not to doom frail man 
So strictly, but much more to pity inclined, 
He, 2 to appease thy wrath, and end the strife 
Of mercy and justice in thy face discerned, 
Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat 
Second to thee, offered himself to die 
For man's offence. unexampled love, 
Love no where to be found less than Divine ! 
Hail, Son of God, Saviour of men ! thy name 
Shall be the copious matter of my song 
Henceforth, and never shall my harp thy praise 
Forget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin." 

Thus they in Heaven, above the starry sphere, 
Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent 
Meanwhile upon the firm opacous globe 3 
Of this round world, whose first convex divicbs 
The luminous inferior orbs inclosed 
From Chaos and the inroad of Darkness old, 
Satan alighted walks : a globe far off 
It seemed, now seems a boundless continent, 
Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night 
Starless exposed, and ever-threatening storms 
Of Chaos blustering round, inclement sky ; 
Save on that side which from the wall of Heaven, 
Though distant far, some small reflection gains 
Of glimmering air less vexed with tempest loud «■ 
Here walked the fiend at large in spacious fieh 
A.8 when a vulture on Imans 4 bred, 

' i. e. thee, and thee only. 

2 Supply "than" or "bat" before "he 

3 Satan's walk upon the outside of the univarse, which at a distance 
ppeared to him of a globular form, but upon his nearer approach 

looked like an unbounded plain, is natural and noble : as his roanung 
upon the frontiers of the creation, between that mass ©f matter which 
was wrought into a world, and that shapeless, unformed heap of ma- 
terials which still lay in chaos and confusion, strikes the imagination 
with something astonishingly great and wild. — Addison. 

4 Imaus is a celebrated mountain in Asia; its name signifies 
"inowv," in the language ^f tbe inhabitants, according to Pliny.. 



-4* 



78 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. hi. 432-461. 

Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, 
Dislodging from a region scarce of prey- 
To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids 
On hills where flocks are fed, flies toward the springe 
Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams ; 
But in his way lights on the barren plains 
Of Sericana, where Chineses drive 
With sails and wind their cany waggons light; 
So on this windy sea of land, the fiend 
Walked up and down alone, bent on Lis prey , 
Alone, for other creature in this place 
Living or lifeless to be found was none ; 
None yet, but store hereafter from the earth 
Up hither like aerial vapours flew 
Of all things transitory and vain, when sin 
With vanity had filled the works of men ; 
Both all things vain, and all who in vain things 
Built then- fond hopes of glory or lasting fame, 
Or happiness in this or the other life; 
All who have their reward on earth, the fruits 
Of painful superstition and blind zeal, 
Nought seeking but the praise of men, here find 
Fit retribution, empty as their deeds; 
All th' unaccomplished works of Nature's hand, 
Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixed, 
Dissolved on earth, fleet hither, and in vain, 
Till final dissolution, wander here, 
Not in the neighbouring moon, 1 as some have dreamed 
Those argent fields more likely habitants, 
Translated saints, or middle spirits, hold, 

Lib. vi. cap. 21, " incolarum lingua nivosum significante ; " and there 
fore it is said here, " whose snowy ridge." It is the boundary to the 
east of the Western Tartars, who are called " roving," as they live 
chiefly in tents, and remove from place to place for the convenience 
of pasturage, their herds of cattle and what they take in hunting being 
their principal subsistence. Ganges and Hydaspes are famous rivers 
of India ; and Serica is a region betwixt China to the east, and tho 
mountain Imaus to the west ; and what our author here says of the 
Chinese he seems to have taken from Heylin's Cosmography, p. 867, 
where it is said, "Agreeable unto the observation of modern writers, 
the country is so plain and level that they have carts and coaches 
driven with sails, as ordinarily as drawn with horses, in these ports." 
— Newton. 

1 Ariosto particularly, in his " Orlando Furioso," cant. 8.4, at. 
TO, &c. 



T 



^ . *&M 



^ 



9 in. 462-483. PAfiAZt/SE LOST. 79 

Betwixt the angelical and human kind. 
Hither of ill-joined sons and daughters born 
First from the ancient world those giants came 
With many a vain exploit, though then renowned', 
The builders next of Babel on the plain 
Of Sennaar, 1 and still with vain design 
New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build ■ 
Others came single ; he who to be deemed 
A god, leaped fondly into iEtna flames, 
Empedocles; 2 and he who to enjoy 
Plato's Elysium, leaped into the sea, 
Cleombrotus; 3 and many more too long, 
Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars, 
White, black, and gray, with all their trumpery 
Here pilgrims roam, that strayed so far to seek 
In Golgotha him dead, who lives in Heaven ; 4 
And they who to be sure of Paradise 
Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, 
Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised, 
They pass the planets seven, 5 and p>ass the fixed, 
And that crystalline sphere whose balance weighs 
The trepidation talked, and tbat first moved, 

Shinar. 

* The scholar of Pythagoras, a philosopher and poet, born at Agri- 
gentum, in Sicily: he wrote of the nature of things in Greek, ac 
Lucretius did in Latin verse. He, stealing one night from his fol 
lowers, threw himself into the flaming iEtna, that being nowhere to 
be found he might be esteemed to be a god, and to be taken up into 
Heaven ; but his iron pattens, being thrown out by the fury of the 
burning mountain, discovered his defeated ambition, and ridiculed his 
folly. Hor. de Art. Poet. 464 :— 

" Deus immortalis haberi 
Dum cupit Empedocles, ardentem frigidus iEtnam 
Insiluit." — Hume. 

f The name is rightly placed the last word in the sentence, as 
-'Empedocles " was before. He was called Ambraciota of Ambracia, 
* city of Epirus in Greece. Having read over Plato's book of the 
" Soul's Immortality and Happiness in another Life," he was so 
ravished with the account of it that he leaped from a high wall into 
the sea, that he might immediately enjoy it. — Newton. 

4 An allusion to Luxe xxiv. 5 sq. 

5 He speaks here according to the ancient astronomy, adopted and 
improved by Ptolemy. " They pass the planets seven," our planetary 
or solar system, "and" beyond this " pass the fixed," the firmament 
or sphere of the fixed stars; "and" beyond this "that crystalline 
sphere," the crystalline Heaven, clear as crystal, to which the Ptole 



^ ^ 



~& 



So MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. m. 484-520. 

And now Saint Peter at Heaven's wicket seems 

To wait them with his keys, and now at foot 

01' Heaven's ascent they lift their feet, when lo! 

A violent cross wind from either coast 

Blows them transverse ten thousand leagues awry 

Into the devious air ; then might ye see 

Cowls, hoods, and habits with their wearers tost 

And fluttered into rags ; then relics, heads, 

Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, 

The sport of winds : all these up whirled aloft 

Fly o'er the backside of the world far off 

Into a limbo large and broad, since called 

The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown 

Long after, now unpeopled, and untrod 

All this dark globe the fiend found as he passed, 

And long he wandered, till at last a gleam 

Of dawning light turned thitherward in haste 

His travelled 1 steps; far distant he descries, 

Ascending by degrees magnificent 

Up to the wall of Heaven, a structure high , 

At top whereof, but far more rich, appeared 

The work as of a kingly palace gate, 

With frontispiece of diamond and gold 

Embellished ; thick with sparkling orient gems 

The portal shone, inimitable on earth 

By model, or by shading pencil drawn. 

The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw 

Angels ascending and descending, bands 

Of guardians bright, when he from Esau fled 

To Padan-Aram, in the field of Luz, 

Dreaming by night under the open sky, 

And waking cried, ' This is the gate of Heaven.* 

Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 

There always, but drawn up to Heaven sometimes 

Viewless ; and underneath a bright sea flowed 

Df jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon 

Who after came from earth, sailing arrived, 

maics attributed a sort of libration, or shaking (ths "trepidation*' 
bo much talked of), to account for certain irregularities in the motion 
of the stars; "and" beyond this "that first moved," the primum 
mobile, the sphere which was both the first moved and the first mover, 
communicating its motions to all the Iowa* spheres; and beyond this 
was the empyrean Heaven. — Newton. 
1 T«ed, wearied. 

♦<&« ^ 



A, -^. 



. hi. 521-555- PARADISE LOST. bt 

Wafted by angels, or new o'er the lake 

Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds 

The stairs were then let down, whether to dare 

The fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate 

His sad exclusion from the doors of bliss , 

Direct against which opened from beneath, 

Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise, 

A passage down to the earth, a passage wide 

Wider by far than that of after times 

Over Mount Zion, and, though that were large, 

9ver the promised land to God so dear, 

By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, 

On high behests his angels to and fro 

Passed frequent, and his eye with choice regarc" 

From Paneas, 1 the fount of Jordan's flood, 

To Beersaba, where the Holy Land 

Borders on Egypt and the Arabian shore ; 

So wide the opening seemed, where bounds were sel 

To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. 

Satan from hence, now on the lower stair, 

That scaled by steps of gold to Heaven-gate, 

Looks down with wonder at the sudden view 

Of all this world at once. As when a scout 

Through dark and desert ways with peril gone 

All night, at last by break of cheerful dawn 

Obtains the brow of some high-clhnbing hill, 

Which to his eye discovers unaware 

The goodly prospect of some foreign land 

First seen, or some renowned metropolis, 

With glistering spires and pinnacles adorned, 

Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams: 

Such wonder seized, though after Heaven seen, 

The spirit malign, but much more envy seized, 

At sight of all this wor]d beheld so fair. 

Round he surveys 2 (and well might, where- he stood 

1 Formerly called Dan, from " Dan to Beersheba" being the limits 
of tbe Holy Land from N. to S. 

' " He surveys from eastern point of Libra," one of the twelvo 
signs exactly opposite to Aries, " to the fleecy star," Aries or tbe Earn, 
that is from east to west, for when Libra rises in the east, Aries sets full 
west ; and Aries is said to " bear Andromeda," because that constel- 
/ation represented as a woman is placed just over Aries, and there- 
fore when Aries sets he seems to bear Andromeda " far off Atlantic 
aeas," the great western ocean, 'beyond the horizon; then froi* 1 



it 



n:;t 



«2 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. in. 556-591. 

So nigh above the circling canopy 

Of night\? extended shade), from eastern point 

Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears 

Andromeda far off Atlantic seas, 

Beyond the horizon ; then from pole to pole 

He views in breadth, and without longer pause 

Down right into the world's first region throws 

His flight precipitant, and winds with ease 

Through the pure marble l ah- his oblique way 

Amongst innumerable stars, that shone 

Stars distant, but nigh hand seemed other worlds * 

Or other worlds they seemed, or happy isles, 

Like those Hesperian gardens 2 famed of old, 

Fortunate fields, and groves, and flowery vales ; 

Thrice happy isles, but who dwelt happy there 

He stayed not to inquire : above them all 

The golden sun, in splendour likest Heaven, 

Allured his eye : thither his course he bends 

Through the calm firmament (but up or down, 

By centre, or eccentric, hard to tell, 

Or longitude), where the great luminary 

Aloof the vulgar constellations thick, 

That from his lordly eye keep distance due, 

Dispenses light from far ; they as they move 

Their starry dance in numbers 3 that compute 

Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering lamp 

Turn swift their various motions, or are turned 

By his magnetic beam, that gently warms 

The universe, and to each inward part 

With gentle penetration, though unseen, 

Shoots invisible virtue even to the deep ; 

So wondrously was set his staiion bright. 

There lands the fiend, a spot like which, pei haps, 

Astronomer in the sun's lucent orb 

Through his glazed optic tube yet never saw. 

The place he found beyond expression bright, 

pole to pole he views in breadth," that is, from north to south, a:id iitai 
Is said to be " in breadth," because the ancients, knowing more of the 
earth from east to west than from north to south, and so having a 
much greater journey one way than the other, one was called length 
or longitude, the other breadth, or latitude. — Newton. 

1 i. e. pure, spotless : see Newton's examples. 

2 The isles about Cape Verde in Africa. 

3 i. e. measures, rhythm. 



-":> 



*&♦ 



b. in. 592-627. PARADISE LOST. 83 



Compared with aught on earth, metal or stcns ; 
Not all parts like, hut all alike informed 
With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire; 
If metal, part seemed gold, part silver clear; 
If stone, carbuncle most, or chrysolite, 
Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone 
In Aaron's breastplate, and a stone besidet 
Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen, 
That stone, or like to that, which here below 
Philosophers in vain so long have sought ; 
In vain, though by their powerful art they bind 
Volatile Hermes, 1 and call up unbound 
In various shapes old Proteus from the sea, 
Drained through a limbec to his native form. 
What wonder then if fields and regions here 
Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run 
Portable gold, when with one virtuous touch 
The arch-chemic sun, 2 so far from us remote, 
Produces, with terrestrial humour mixed, 
Here in the dark so many precious things 
Of colour glorious and effect so rare ? 
Here matter new to gaze the devil met 
Undazzled ; far and wide his eye commands ; 
For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, 
But all sunshine, as when his beams at noon 
Culminate from the equator, as they now 
Shot upward still direct, whence no way round 
Shadow from body opaque can fall ; and the alt, 
Nowhere so clear, sharpened his visual ray 
To objects distant far, whereby he soon 
Saw within ken a glorious angel stand, 
The same whom John saw also in the sun : 3 
His back was tinned, but not his brightness hid ; 
Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar 
Circled his head, nor less his locks behind 
Illustrious on Iris shoulders, fledge 4 with wings 

1 Quicksilver, or mercurj. 

3 The thought of making the sun the chief chemist ct dchesibf 
•leems to be taken from Shakspeare, King .^ohn, act iiL .— 

" To solemnise this day, the glorious sun 
Stays in his course, and plays the alchemist, 
Turning with splendour of his precious eye 
U'he meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold." 

Rev. x\j 17. * For " fledga* " 



%|h 



*& : 4 



84 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. hi. 628-654. 

Lay waving round ; on some great charge employed 

He seemed, or fixed in cogitation deep. 

Glad was tne spirit impure, as now in hope 

To find who might direct his wandering flight 

To Paradise, the happy seat of man, 

His journey's end, and our beginning woe. 

But first he casts 1 to change his proper shape, 

Which else might work him danger or delay : 

And now a stripling cherub he appears, 

Not of the prime, yet such as in his face 

Youth smiled celestial, 2 and to every limb 

Suitable grace diffused, so vrell he feigned : 

Under a coronet his flowing hair 

In curls on either cheek played ; wing he wore 

Of many a coloured plume sprinkled with gold ; 

His habit fit for speed succinct, 3 and held 

Before his decent steps a silver wand 

He drew not nigh unheard ; the angel bright, 

Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turned, 

Admonished by his ear, and straight was known 

The archangel Uriel, one of the seven 

Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, 

Stand ready at command, and are his eyes 4 

That run through all the heavens, or down to the earth 

Bear his swift errands, over moist and dry, 

O'er sea and land : him Satan thus accosts : 

" Uriel, 5 for thou of those seven spirits that stand 

3 Devises, considers. 

2 In Spenser there is a similar description of a young angel. Fae'rii 
Qaeen, b. ii cant. viii. st. 5 : — 

" Beside his head there sat a fair young man, 
Of wondrous beauty, and of freshest years, 
Whose tender bud to blossom new began, 
And flourish fair above his equal peers ; 
His snowy front curled with golden hairs, 
Like Phoebus' face adorned with sunny rays, 
Divinely shone ; and two sharp winged shears, 
Decked with diverse plumes, like painted jays, 
Were fixed at his back, to cut his airy ways." 

— Newton. 
' Eeady, prepared. 

* This expression, borrowed from Zech. iv. 10, probably refers tc 
the eastern title of " eye of the king," applied to a chief officer- 
Bee Kitto's Biblical Cyclopaedia, v. i. p. 683-6. 

6 t". e. God is my light. He is mentioned as a good angel Lu 
2 Esdras iv and v. 



4- — 4 



». in. 653-698. PARADISE. L OST. 

In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, 

The first art wont his great authentic will 

Interpreter through highest Heaven to bring 

Where all his sons thy embassy attend ; 

And here art likeliest by supreme decree 

Like honour to obtain, and, as his eye, 

To visit oft this new creation round ; 

Unspeakable desire to see, and know 

All these his wondrous works, but chiefly man, 

His chief delight and favour, him for whom 

All these his works so wondrous he ordained, 

Hath brought me from the quires of cherubim 

Alone thus wandering. Brightest seraph, tell 

In which of all these shining orbs hath man 

His fixed seat, or fixed seat hatb none, 

But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell , 

That I may find him, and with secret gaze 

Or open admiration him behold, 

On whom the great Creator hath bestowed 

Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces poured; 

That both in him and all things, as is meet, 

The universal Maker we may praise, 

Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes 

To deepest Hell, and to repair thai loss 

Created this new happy race of men 

To serve him better : wise are all his ways." 

So spake the false dissembler unperceived ; 
For neither man nor angel can discern 
Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks 
Invisible, except to God alone, 
By his permissive will, through Heaven and earth [ 
And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps 
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity 
Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill 
Where no ill seems : which now for once beguiled 
Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held 
The sharpest-sighted spirit of all in Heaven; 
Who to the fraudulent impostor foul 
In his uprightness answer thus returned: 

" Fair angel, thy desire, which tends to know 
The works of God, thereby to glorify 
The great Work-Master, leads to no excess 
That reaches blame, but rather merits praise 
The more it seems excess, that led thee hither 



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h6 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. hi. 699-731, 

From thy empyreal mansion thus alone, 

To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps, 

Contented with report, hear only in Heaven : 

For wonderful indeed are all his works, 

Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all 

Had in remembrance always with delight; 

But what created mind can comprehend 

Their number, or the wisdom infinite 

That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep? 

I saw when at his word the formless mass, 

This world's material mould, eame to a heap ; 

Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar 

Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; 

Till at his second bidding darkness fled, 

light shone, and order from disorder sprung . 

Swift to their several quarters hasted then 

The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire , 

And this ethereal quintessence 1 ol Heaven 

Flew upward, spirited with various forms, 

That rolled orbicular, and turned to stars 

Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move , 

Each had his place appointed, each his ciurse ; 

The rest in circuit walls this universe. 

Look downward on that globe, whose hither side 

With light from hence, though but reflected, shines; 

That place is earth, tho seat of man; that light 

His day, which else, as the other hemisphere, 

Night would invade ; but there the neighbouring moon 

(So call that opposite fair star) her aid 

Timely interposes, and her monthly round 

Still ending, still renewing, 2 through mid Heaven, 

With borrowed light her countenance triform 

Hence fills and empties to enlighten the earth, 

1 The four elements hasted to their quarters, but this fifth essence 
flc.vr upward. It shsald be " this, " as ( it is in Milton's own editions , 
and net "the ethereal quintessence," as it is in Bentley's, Fenton's, 
pnd some other editions ; for the angel who speaks is in the sun, and 
therefore says "this," as the sun was a part of this ethereal quint- 
Bssenoft. And tbis notion our author borrowed from Aristotle and 
others of the ancient philosophers, who supposed that, besides the 
four elements, there was likewise an ethereal quintessence, or fifth 
essence, out of which the stars and heavens were formed, and its 
motion was orbicular. — Newton. 

2 Increasing with horns toward the east, decreasing with horns 
t/vu^d t] ie wes t. and at the full. 









PARADISE LOST. 87 

And in her pale dominion checks the night 
That spot to which I point is Paradise, 
Adam's abode, those lofty shades Iiis bower 
Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires.'* 
Thus said, tie tinned ; and Satan, bowing low, 
As to superior spirits is wont in Heaven, 
Where honour due and reverence none neglects, 
Took leave, and toward the coast of earth beneath, 
Down froin the ecliptic, sped with hoped success, 
Throws his steep flight in many an any wheel, 
Nor stayed, till on Niphates' top he lights. * 

1 A mountain in the borders of Armenia, not far from the spring ni 
Tigris, as Xenophon affirms upon his own knowledge. The pwrt 
lauds Satan on this mountain, because it borders on Mesopotamia, & 
«Juch the most judicious describers of FSradise n ^cn it— Hu®&. 



-',:■:■ 



4 



tS MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, <*. it. 1-6. 



BOOK IV 



THE ABGUMENT. 

Satan, now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he must now 
attempt the bold enterprise, which he undertook alone against God 
and man, falls into many doubts with himself, and many passions, 
fear, envy, and despair ; but at length confirms liimself in evil, 
journeys on to Paradise, whose outward prospect and situation ie 
described, overleaps the bounds, sits in the shape of a cormorant on 
the tree of life, as highest, ha the garden, to look about him. The 
garden described ; Satan's first sight of Adam and Eve ; his wonder 
at their excellent form and happy state, but with resolution to work 
their fall ; overhears their discourse, thence gathers that the tree oi 
knowledge was forbidden them to eat of, under penalty of death ; 
and thereon intends to found his temptation, by seducing them to 
!rransgress ; then leaves them a wbile, to know further of their state 
by some other means. Meanwhno, Uriel, descending on a sunbeam, 
warns Gabriel, who had in charge the gate of Paradise, that some 
evil spirit had escaped the deep, and passed at noon by his sphere in 
the shape of a good angel down to Paradise, discovered after by his 
furious gestures in the mount, Gabriel promises to find him ere 
morning. Night coming on, Adam and Evs discourse of going to 
their rest : their bower described ; their evening worship. Gabriel 
drawing forth his bands of night-watch to walk the round of 
Paradise, appoints two strong angels to Adam's bower, lest the evil 
spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Eve sleeping ; 
there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a dream, and 
bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel ; by whom questioned, he 
scornfully answers, prepares resistance, but, hindered by a sign froE 
Heaven, flies out of Paradise. 

Oh for that warning voice, which he who saw 
The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud, 
Then when the dragon, put to second rout, 
Came furious down to be revenged on men, 
*Woe to the inhabitants on earth Z" 1 that now. 
Vhile time was, our first parents had been warned 

»Bev. xii 1.2. 



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b. iv. 7— 35- PARADISE LOST. 89 

The coming of their secret foe, and 'scaped, 
Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare : for now 
Batan, now first inflamed with rage, came d )\vn, 
The tempter ere the accuser 1 of mankind, 
To wreak on innocent frail man his loss 
Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell ; 
Yet not rejoicing in his speed, though bold 
Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast, 
Begins his dire attempt; which, nigh the birth, 
Now rolling boils in his tumultuous breast, 
And like a devilish engine back recoils 
Upon himself; horror and doubt distract 
His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir 
The Hell within him ; for within him Hell 
He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell 
One step no more than from himself can fly- 
By change of place ; now conscience wakes despair 
That slumbered, wakes the bitter memory 
Of what he was, what is, and what must be 
Worse ; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue. 
Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view 
Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad ; 
Sometimes towards Heaven, and the full blazing sun. 
Which now sat high in his meridian tower : 2 
Then much revolving, thus in sighs began : 

" thou, that, with surpassing glory crowned, 3 
Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the god 
Of this new world ; at whose sight all the stars 
Hide their diminished heads ; to thee I call, 

» "Rev. xii. 10. 

2 At noon the sun is lifted up as in a tower. So Spenser, ix his 
translation of Virgil's Culex. : — 

" The fiery sun was mounted now on hight 
Up to the heavenly towers." — Richardson. 

Satan being now within prospect of Eden, and looking round upon 
Jclq glories of the creation, is filled with sentiments different from those 
which he discovered while he was in Hell. The place inspires him 
with thoughts more adapted to it : he reflects upon the happy eondi 
tion from whence he fell, and breaks forth into a speech that is softened 
With several transient touches of remorse and self-accusation ; but at 
•ciigtb be confirms himself in impenitence, and in his design of 
drawing man into his own state of guilt and misery. This conflict of 
passions is raised with a great deal of art, as the opening of his speech 
to the sun is very bold and noble. This speech is, I think, the finest 
&&♦ is ascribed to Satan in the whole poem. — Addiion. 



W* 



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*o MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. b. iv. 3 6- 77 

But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 

sun ! to tell thee how I hate thy beams, 
That bring to my remembrance from what state 

1 fell, how glorious once above thy sphere ; 
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down, 
Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King 
Ah, wherefore? he deserved no such return 

From me, whom he created what I was 

In that bright eminence, and with his good 

Upbraided none ; nor was his service hard. 

What could be less than to afford Mm praise, 

The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks ? 

How due ! yet all his good proved ill in me, 

And wrought but malice ; lifted up so high 

I sdeined 1 subjection, and thought one step higher 

Would set me highest, and in a moment quit 

The debt immense of endless gratitude, 

So burdensome still paying, still to owe, 

Forgetful what from him I still received ; 

And understood not 2 that a grateful mind 

"By owing owes not, but still pays, at once 

Indebted and discharged; what burden then ? 

Oh, had his powerful destiny ordained 

Me some inferior angel, I had stood 

Then happy : no unbounded hope had raised 

Ambition. Yet why not ? some other power 

As great might have aspired, and me, though mean, 

Drawn to his part ; but other powers as great 

Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within 

Or from without, to all temptations armed. 

Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand ? 

Thou hadst: whom hast thou then or what to accuse 

But Heaven's free love dealt equally to all ? 

Be then his Jove accursed, since love or hate, 

To me alike, it deals eternal woe. 

Nay, cursed be thou ; since against his thy will 

Chose freely what it now so justly rues. 

Me miserable ! which way shall I fly 

Infinite wrath and infinite despair? 

Which way I fly is Hell ; myself am Hell ; 

And in the lowest deep a lower deep 

StLuI tnreatening to devour me opens wide. 

: Disdained, irora the lialian a<rcgncre. 

* This is connected with "Is -.eined," i» \. 60. 



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b. iv. 78-119. PARADISE LOST. 91 

To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven. 

Oh, then at last relent: is there no p'ace 

Left for repentance, none for pardon left ? 

None left but by submission ; and that word 

Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame 

kinong the spirits beneath, whom I seduced 

With other promises and other vaunts 

Than to submit, boasting I could subdue 

The Omnipotent. Ay me ! they little know 

How dearly I abide that boast so vain, 

Under what torments inwardly I groan, 

While they adore me on the throne of Hell 

With diadem and sceptre high advanced, 

The lower still I fall, only supreme 

In misery ; such joy ambition finds. 

But say I could repent, and could obtain 

By act of grace my former state ; how soon 

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay 

What feigned submission swore ! ease would recant 

Vows made in pain, as violent and void. 

For never can true reconcilement grow 

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep • 

Which would but lead me to a worse relapse 

And heavier fall : so should I purchase dear 

Short intermission bought with double smart 

This knows my punisher ; therefore cs far 

From granting he, as I from begging peace : 

All hope excluded thus, behold instead 

Of us outcast, exiled, his new delight, 

Mankind created, and for him this world. 

So farewell hope, and with hope, farewell fear, 

Farewell remorse : all good to me is lost; 

Evil, be thou my good ; by thee at least 

Divided empire with Heaven's King I hold, 

By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign; 

As man ere long and this new world shall know." 1 

Thus while he spake each passion dimmed his face, 
Thrice changed with jmie ire, envy and despair ; 
Which marred his borrowed visage, and betrayed 
Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld. 
For heavenly minds from such distempers foul 
Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware, 

1 i. e. by Uieu fall. 



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92 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 120-157. 

Each perturbation smoothed with outward calm, 

Artificer of fraud, and was the first 

That practised falsehood under saintly show, 

Deep malice to conceal, couched with revenge ; 

Yet not enough had practised to deceive 

Uriel once warned ; whose eye pursued him down 

The way he went, and on the Assyrian mount 1 

Saw him disfigured, more than could befall 

Spirit of happy sort ; his gestures fierce 

He marked and mad demeanour, then alone, 

As he supposed, all unobserved, unseen. 

So on he fares, and to the border comes 

Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, 

Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure greeu, 

As with a rural mound, the champaign head 

Of a steep wilderness, whose hairy sides 

With thicket overgrown, grotesque and wild, 

Access denied ; and overhead up grew 

Insuperable heights of loftiest shade, 

Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm. 

A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend 

Shade above shade, a woody theatre 

Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their topa 

The verduous wall of Paradise up-sprung : 

Which to our general sire g**Te prospect large 

Into his nether empire neighbouring round. 

And higher than that wall a circling row 

Of goodliest trees loaden with fairest fruit, 

Blossoms and fruits at once, of golden hue, 

Appeared, with gay enamelled colours mixed: 

On which the sun more glad impressed his beams 

Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, 

When God hath showered the earth ; so lovely ecetned 

That landscape ; and of pure, now purer air 

Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires 

Vernal delight and joy, able to drive 

All sadness but despair : now gentle gales, 

Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense 

1 Dr. Bentley reads Armenian mount ; but Niphates is by Plicy 
reckoned between Armenia and Assyria, and therefore may be called 
Assyrian. It is plain from Milton's account of the situation of Eden, 
v. 210, 285, that Eden was in Assyria ; and it is plain from comparing 
ili. 742, with iv. 27, that Niphates was not far from Eden ; so that Milton 
■aust have placed it in Assyria, at least on the borders of it. — Pearce. 



..;,.. 






•^p- 



iv. 158-188. PAJ?ADIS£ LOST. 93 

Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stoie 
Those haluiv spoils. 1 As when to them who sail 
Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 
Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow 
Sabean odours from the spicy shove 
Df Araby the Blest ; with such delay 
Well pleased they slack their course, and many a leagu. 
Cheered with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles : 
So entertained those odorous sweets the fiend 
Who came their bane, though with them better pleased 
Than Asmodeus 2 with the fishy fume, 
That drove him, though enamoured, from the spouse 
Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent 
From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound. 
Now to the ascent of that steep savage hill 
Satan had journeyed on, pensive and slow; 
But further way found none, so thick entwined, 
As one continued brake, the undergrowth 
Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplexed 
All path of man or beast that passed 3 that way : 
One gate there only was, and that looked east 
On the other side : which, when the arch-felon saw, 
Due entrance he disdained, and in contempt, 
At one slight bound high overleaped all bound 
Of hill or highest wall, an u „ Heer within 
Lights on his feet. As when k " prowling wolf, 
Whom hunger drives to seek lib v haunt for prey, 
Watching where shepherds pen ti:eir flocks at eve 
In hurdled cotes amid the field secure, 
Leaps o'er the fence with ease into the fold: 
Or as a thief bent to unhoard the cash 



1 This fine passage is undoubtedly taken from as fine a o;i3 in 
Shakspeare's Twelfth Night, at the beginning — 

" like the sweet south 
That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
Stealing and giving odour." Newton. 

t Asmodeus was the evil spirit, enamoured of Sarah the daughter ol 
Raguel, whose seven husbands he destroyed ; but after that she was 
married to the son of Tobit, he was driven away by the fumes of the 
heart and liver of a fish ; " the which smell when the evil spirit had 
smelled, he fled into the utmost parts of Egypt, and the angel bound 
him." See the book of Tobit, chap. viii. — Newton. 

a i. e. that would have passed. So in 642 — " So seemed," t. t. would 
have seemed, if any on9 had been there to see him. 



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94 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. i8 9 -«i. 

Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, 
Cro3s-barrcd and bolted fast, fear no assault, 
Tn at the window climbs, or o'er the tiles : 
So clomb this first grand thief into God's fold ; 
So since into his chinch lewd hirelings climb. 
Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life, 
The middle tree and highest there that grew, 
Sat like a cormorant ; yet not true life 
Thereby regained, but sat devising death 
To them who lived ; nor on the virtue thought 
Of. that life-giving plant, but only used 
For prospect, what, well used, had been the pledge 
Of immortality. So little knows 
Any, but God alone, to value right 
The good before him, but perverts best things 
To worst abuse, or to then meanest use. 
Beneath him with new wonder now he views 
To all delight of human sense exposed 
In narrow room Nature's whole wealth, yea, more, 
A Heaven on earth : for blissful Paradise 
Of God the garden was, by him in the east 
Of Eden planted ; Eden stretched her line 1 
From Auran eastward to the royal towers 
Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings, 
Or where the sons of Eden long before 
Dwelt in Telassar : in this pleasant soil 
His far more pleasant garden God ordained ; 
Out of the fertile ground he caused to grow 
All trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste ; 
And all amid them stood the tree of life, 
High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit 
Of vegetable gold ; and next to life, 
Our death, the tree of knowledge, grew fast by, 

This province (in which xka terrestrial Paradise was i-Irlllid) 
extended from " Auran," or Haran, or Charran, or Charra?, a city oi 
Mesopotamia near the river Euphrates, extended, I say, from thence 
eastward to " Seleucia," a city built by Seleucus, one of the successor? 
of Alexander the Great, upon the river Tigris. Or, in other words, 
this province was the same, where the children of Eden dwelt in 
" Telassar" (as Isaiah says, chap, xxxvii. 12), which " Telassar," oj 
lalatha, was a province and a city of the children of Eden, placed bj 
Ptolemy in Babylonia, upon the common stream of Tigris ani 
Euphrates. See Sir Isaac Newton's Chronol. p. 275. So that «a 
author places Eden, agreeably to the accounts in Scripture. somewLei* 
in Mesopotamia.— Newion 



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b. iv. 222-248. PARADISE LOST. 95 

Knowledge of good, bought dear by knowing ill. 

Southward through Eden went a river 1 large, 

Nor changed his course, but through the shaggy hill 

Passed underneath engulfed ; for God had thrown 

That mountain as his garden mould high raised 

Upon the rapid cm-rent, which through veins 

Of porous earth with kindly thirst up-drawn, 

Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill 

Watered the garden , thence anited fell 

Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, 

Which from his darksome passage now appears, 

And now divided into four main streams, 2 

Runs diverse, wandering many a famous realm 

And country, whereof here needs no account ; 

But rather to tell how, if art could tell, 

How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks, 

Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold, 

With mazy error under pendent shades 

Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed 

Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice art 

In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon 

Poured forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain, 

Both where the morning sun first warmly smote 

The open field, and where the unpierced shade 

Embrowned the noontide bowers : thus was this place 

A happy rural seat of various view ; 

Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm, 

1 Probably tbe river formed by the junction of the Euphrates anc 
Tigris, which flows southward. 

3 This is grounded upon the words of Moses, Gen. ii. 10 : — " And 
a river went out of Eden to water the garden, and from thence it was 
parted, and became into four heads." Nov/ the most probable account 
that is given of these four rivers we conceive to be this. The river 
that watered the garden of Eden was, as we think, the river formed by 
the junction of Euphrates and Tigris; and this river was parted into 
four other main streams or rivers; two above the garden, namely, 
Euphrates and Tigris before they are joined, and two below the 
garden, namely, Euphrates and Tigris after they are parted again ; for 
Euphrates and Tigris they were still called by the Greeks and Komans : 
though in tbe time of Moses they were named Pison and Gihon: Our 
poet expresses it as if the river had been parted into four other rivers 
below the garden ; but there is no being certain of these particulars; 
and Milton, sensible of tfte great uncertainty ef them, wisely avoids 
giving any farther description of the countries through which the 
rivers flowed, and says in the general that np account needs to b* 
given of them here. — N 'ew top.. 



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96 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 249-274. 

Others whose fruit burnished with golden rind, 

Hung amiable (Hesperian fables true, 
If true, here only), and of delicious taste. 1 
Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 
Grazing the tender herb, were interposed, 
Or palmy hillock ; or the flowery lap 
Of some irriguous 8 valley spread her store, 
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose . 
Another side, umbrageous grcts and caves 
Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling vine 
Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps 
Luxuriant ; meanwhile murmming waters fall 
Down the slope hills, dispersed, or in a lake, 3 
That to the fringed bank with myrtle crowned 
Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams. 
The birds their quire apply; airs, vernal airs, 
Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune 
The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, 4 
Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, 
Led on the eternal Spring Not that fair field 
Of Enna, where Proserpine gathering flowers, 
Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis 5 
Was gathered, which cost Ceres all that pain 
To seek her through the world; nor that sweet grove 
Of Daphne by Orontes, and the inspired 
Castalian spring, might with this Paradise 

1 I have bracketed these words, with Pearce. 

2 Well watered, full cf springs and rills. 

* He makes the lake, we may observe, a person, as Homer does the 
river Scamander and Virgil the Tiber ; and Milton himself makes a 
person of the river of bliss, and a female person too, iii. 359, as hr 
does here of the lake. This language is certainly more poetical ; » r ./i 
I suppose he thought "her crystal mirror" sounded smoother af/< 
better than "its crystal mirror," or even "his crystal mirror." — 
tfewton. 

4 While universal nature, linked with the graceful seasons, danced 
d perpetual round, and throughout the earth, yet unpolluted, led 
eternal spring. All the poets favour the opinion of the world's crea- 
tion in the spring, Virg. Georg. ii. 338 : — 

" Ver illud erat, ver magnus agebat." 
And Homer joins both the Graces and Hours hand-in -hand with Har- 
mony, Youth, and Venus, in his hymn to Apollo. — Hume. 

The Ancients personized everything. "Pan" is nature, the 
"Graces" are the beautiful seasons, and the "Hours" are the time 
requisite for the production and perfection of things. — Richardson. 

* Pluto. 



T 



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b. jv. 275-317- PARADISE LOST. 97 

Df Ede^x strive ; nor that Nyseian isle 
&irt with the river Triton, where old Cham, 
Whom Gentiles Ammon call, and Lyhian Jove ; 
Hid Amalthea and her florid son, 
Young Bacchus, from his stepdame Rhea's eye ; 
Nor where Abassin kings their issue guard, 
Mount Amara, though this by some supposed 
True Paradise, under the Ethiop line, 
By Nil us' head, enclosed with shining rock, 
A whole day's journey high, but wide remote 
From tliis Assyrian garden, where the fiend 
Saw undelighted all delight, all kind 
Of living creatures, new to sight, and strange 
Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall, 
Godlike erect, with native honour clad, 
In naked majesty, seemed lords of all, 
And worthy seemed ; for in their looks divine 
The image of their glorious Maker shone ; 
Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure 
(Severe, but in true filial freedom placed), 
Whence true authority in men; though both 
Not equal, as their sex not equal seemed ; 
For contemplation he and valour formed ; 
For softness she, and sweet attractive grace ; 
He for God only, she for God in him : 
His fair large front, and eye sublime, declared 
Absolute rule ; and hyacinthine 1 locks 
Round from hie parted forelock manly hung 
Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad : 
She, as a veil, down to the slender waist 
Her unadorned golden tresses wore 
Dishevelled, but in wanton ringlets waved, 
As the vine cm-Is her tendrils, which implied 
Subjection, but required with gentle sway, 
And by her yielded, by him best received, 
Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, 
And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay. 
Nor those mysterious parts were then concealed , 
Then was not guilty shame : dishonest shame 
Of nature's works, honour dishonourable, 
Sin-bred, how have ye troubled all mankind 
With shows instead, mere shows of seeming purr 
And banished from man's life his happiest life. 
1 t. e. dark purply-brown. 



pS MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. rv. 318-3*8, 

Simplicity and spotless innocence ! 

So passed they naked on, nor shunned 

The sight of God or angel, for they thought no ills 

So hand in hand they passed, the loveliest pair 

That ever since in love's embraces met; 

A.dam, the goodliest man of men since horn 1 

His sons ; the fairest of her daughters Eve. 

Under a tuft of shade that on a green 

Stood whispering soft, hy a fresh fountain aide 

They sat them down ; and after no more toil 

Of their sweet gardening labour than sufficed 

To recommend cool zephyr, and made ease 

More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite 

More grateful, to their supper fruits they fell ; 

Nectarine fruits, which the compliant houghs 

Yielded them ; sidelong as they sat recline 

On the soft downy hank damasked with flowers : 

The savory pulp they chew, and in the rind 

Still as they thirsted scoop the brimming stream: 

Nor gentle purpose, 2 nor endearing smiles 

Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems 

Fair couple, linked in happy nuptial league, 

Alone as they. About them frisking played 

All beasts of the earth, since wild, and of all chase 

In wood or wilderness, forest or den ; 

Sporting the lion ramped, and in his paw 

Dandled the kid ; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, 

Gambolled before them; the unwieldy elephant, 

To make them mirth, used all his might, and wreathed 

His lithe 3 proboscis; close the serpent 4 sly 

Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine 

1 This manner of expression is borrowed from the Greek language, 
in which we find sometimes the superlative degree used instead of the 
comparative. The meaning therefore is, that Adam was a goodlier 
man than any of his sons, and Eve fairer than her daughters. So 
Achilles is said to have been u)KVfiopu)-aTOQ aWuv, Iliad, i. 505 ; that 
is, more short-lived than others. — ewton. 

3 From Spenser, F. Q. iii. 8, 14:— 

" He 'gan make gentle purpose to his dame." — Thyer. 

3 Lissom, flexible. 

4 We may observe that the poet is larger in the description of the 
serpent than of any of the other animals; and very judiciously, as he 
Is afterwards made the instrument of so much mischief; and, at the 
same time, an intimation is given " of his fatal tniile," to prepare the 
(F~Mer for what follow a. — Newton, 



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b. iv. 349-381. PARADISE LOST. 93 

Hio braided train, and of his fatal guile 
Gave proof unheeded ; others on the grass 
Couched, and now filled with pasture gazing yuC, 
Or bedward ruminating ; for the sun, 
Declined, was hasting now with prone career 
To the ocean isles, 1 and in the ascending scale 
Of Heaven, the stars that usher evening rose : 
When Satan, still in gaze, as first he stood, 
Scarce thus at length failed speech recovered sad : 
"O Hell ! what do mine eyes with grief behold S 
Into our room of bliss thus high advanced 
Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps, 
Not spirits, yet to heavenly spirits bright 
Little inferior ; whom my thoughts pursue 
With wonder, and could love, so lively shines 
In them divine resemblance, and such grace 
The hand that formed them on their shape hath poured 
Ah ! gentle pair, ye little think how nigh 
Your change approaches, when all these delights 
Will vanish, and deliver ye to woe, 
More woe, the more your taste is now of joy ; 
Happy, but for so happy ill secured 
Long to continue, and this high seat, your heaven, 
111 fenced for Heaven to keep out such a foe 
As now is entered ; yet no purposed foe 
To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn, 
Though I unpitied : league with you I seek, 
And mutual amity so strait, so close, 
That I with you must dwell, or you with me 
Henceforth : my dwelling haply may not please, 
Like this fair Paradise, your sense; yet such 
Accept your Maker's work ; he gave it me, 
Which I as freely give : Hell shall unfold 

1 The islands in the Western Ocean ; for that the sun set in the 
tea., and rose out of it again, was an ancient poetic notion, and is be- 
come part of the phraseology of poetry. " And in the ascending scale 
of heaven." The " balance " of Heaven, or Libra, is one of the twelve 
Bigns ; and when the sun is in that sign, as lie is at the autumn&i 
equinox, the days and nights are equal, as if weighed in a balance :— 
" Libra diei somnique pares ubi fecerit horas." 

Virg. Georg. i. 103. 
And from hence our author seems to have borrowed his metaphor of 
the " scales" of Heaven, weighing night and day, the one ascending 
-'■ the other sinks. — Newton. 






- 



ioo MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 382-425. 

Xa entertain you two, her widest gates, 
And send forth all her kings ; there will be room, 
Not like these narrow limits, to receive 
Your numerous offspring ; if no better place, 
Thank him who puts me loth to this revenge 
On yo\s who wrong me not for him who wronged 
And should I at your harmless innocence 
Melt, as I do, yet public reason just, 
Honour and empire, with revenge enlarged. 
By conquering this new world, compels me now 
To do what else, though damned, I should abhor." 

So spake the fiend, and with necessity, 
The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds. 
Then from his lofty stand on that high tree 
Down he alights among the sportful herd 
Of those four-footed kinds, himself now one, 
Now other, as their shape served best his end 
Nearer to view his prey, and unespied 
To mark what of their state he more might learn 
By word or action marked : about them round 
A lion now he stalks with fiery glare ; 
Then as a tiger, who by chance hath spied 
In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play, 
Straight couches close, then rising changes oft 
His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground. 
Whence rushing he might surest sieze them both 
Griped in each paw : when Adam, first of men, 
To first of women, Eve, thus moving speech, 
Turned him, all ear to hear new utterance flow : 

" Sole partner, and sole part of all these joys, 
Dearer thyself than all ; needs must the Power 
That made us, and for us this ample world, 
Be in£nitely good, and of his good 
As liberal and free as infinite ; 
That raised us from the dust and placed us her© 
In all this happiness, who at his hand 
Have nothing merited, nor can perform 
Aught whereof he hath need, he who requires 
From us no other service than to keep 
This one, this easy charge, of all the trees 
In Paradise that bear delicious fruit 
So various, not to taste that only tree 
Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life, 
So near grows death to life, whate'er death jh. 



4* 



-v* 



b. iv. 426-460. PARADISE LOST. 101 

Some dreadi'ul thing, no doubt; for well thou kuo^est 
God hath pronounced it death to taste that tree, 
The only sign of our obedience left 
Amo\ig so many signs of power and rule 
Conferred upon us, and dominion given 
Over all other creatures that possess 
Earth, air, and sea. Then let us not think hard 
One easy proliibition, who enjoy 
Free leave so large to all things else, and choice 
Unlimited of manifold delights : 
But let us ever praise him, and extol 
His bounty, following our delightful task, 
Co prune these growing plants, and tend these flowers 
Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet." 
To whom thus Eve replied : " thou for whom 
And from whom I was formed, flesh of thy flesh, 
And without whom am to no end, my guide 
And head, what thou hast said is just and right. 
For we to him indeed all praises owe, 
And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy 
So far the happier lot, enjoying thee 
Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou 
Like consort to thyself canst no where find. 
That day I oft remember, 1 when from sleep 
I first awaked, 2 and found myself reposed 
Under a shade on flowers, much wondering where 
And what I was, whence thither brought and how 
Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound 
Of waters issued from a cave, and spread 
Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved 
Pure as the expanse of Heaven; I thither went 
With unexperienced thought, and laid me down 
On the green bank, to look into the clear 
Smooth lake, that to me seemed another sky. 
As I bent down to look, just opposite 

1 From this, as well as several other passages in the ^oem, it ap- 
pears that the poet supposes Adam and Eve to have been created, and 
to have lived many days in Paradise before the Fall. See iv. 639, 680, 
712, v. 31, &c. — Nen Ion. The Rabbins, and some of the fathers, on the 
contrary, believed that the Fall happened on the very day Adam and 
Eve were created. See "Universal Ancient History," v. i. p. 121, 
ed. 8vo. 

2 As death is often compared to " sleep," so our coming into life 
may well be likened to " waking." And Adan? speaks in the same 
figure, viii. 253. — Newton. 



v~ 



*v* 



<¥-'• A 1| 



rc>3 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 461-50&. 

A shape within the watery gleam appeared, 

Bending to look on me ; I started back, 

It started back ; but pleased I soon returned, 

Pleased it returned as soon with answering looks 

Of sympathy and love; there I had fixed 

Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire, 

Had not a voice thus warned me : ' What thou ceest, 

What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself; 

With thee it came and goes : but follow me, 

And I will bring thee where no shadow stays 

Thy coming, and thy soft embraces, he 

Whose image thou art ; him thou shalt enjoy 

Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear 

Multitudes like thyself, and thence be called 

Mother of human race.' "What could I do, 

But follow straight, invisibly thus led? 

Till I espied thee, fair indeed, and tall, 

Under a plantain; yet methought less fair, 

Lest winning soft, less amiably mild, 

Than that smooth watery image ; back I turned ; 

Thou following criedst aloud, ' Return, fair Eve, 

Whom fliest thou? whom thou fliest, of him thou art, 

His flesh, his bone ; to give thee being I lent 

Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, 

Substantial life, to have thee by my side 

Henceforth an individual solace dear ; 

Part of my soul I seek thee, and thee claim 

My other half.' With that thy gentle hand 

Seized mine ; I yielded, and from that time see 

How beauty is excelled by manly grace 

And wisdom, which alone is truly fair." 

So spake our general mother, and with eyes 
Of conjugal attraction unreproved, 
And meek surrender, half-embracing leaned 
On our first father ; half her swelling breast 
Naked met his under the flowing gold 
Of her loose tresses hid: he in delight 
Both of her beauty and submissive charms . 
Smiled with superior love, as Jupiter 
On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds 
That shed May flowers; and pressed her matron' l ; p 
With kisses pure ; aside the devil turned 

1 Deneihu: the lawfulness of tkeir love 



'\ f* 



n^* 






hi : ^ 



b. iv. 503-540. PARADISE LOST. 10 j 

For envy, yet with jealous leer malign 

Eyed them askance, and to himself thus 'plained : 

" Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two, 
Imparadised 1 in one another's arms, 
The happier Eden, shall enjoy then fill 
Of bliss on bliss; while I to Hell am thrust, 
Where 2 neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, 
Among our other torments not the least, 
Still unfulfilled with pain of longing pines. 
Yet let me not forget what I have gained 
From their own mouths: all is not theirs, it seems; 
One fatal tree there stands, of knowledge called, 
Forbidden them to taste: knowledge forbidden? 
Suspicious, reasonless. "Why should then- Lord 
Envy them that? Can it be sin to know ? 
Can it be death ? And do they only stand 
By ignorance? Is that then* hapjry state, 
The proof of then- obedience and their faith? 
Ob, fair foundation laid whereon to build 
Then- ruin ! Hence I will excite then- mincb 
With more desire to know, and to reject 
Envious commands, invented with design 
To keep them lew whom knowledge might exalt 
Equal with gous: aspiring to be such, 
They taste and die : what likelier can ensue ? 
But first with narrow search I must walk round 
This garden, and no corner leave unspied; 
A chance but chance 3 may lead where I may m^ct 
Some wandering spirit of Heaven by fountain side, 
Or in thick shade retired, from him to draw 
What further would be learned. Live while yc may 
Yet happy pah; enjoy, till I return, 
Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed." 

So saying, his proud step he scornful turned, 
But with sly circumspection, and began 
Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his roam 
Meanwhile in utmost longitude, where Heaven 
With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun 



1 Bcntley quotes an example of this word from Sir Philip Sidnev 
"Arcadia," p. 109. " This imparadised neighbourhood." 

- i. e. where there is. 

3 A disagreeable jingle of words. It has been compared with tl 
furt^. fortuna of T.at-in /uiLhor.x 



> 



"^ 



*<$H 



*»• 



104 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. , v. 541-558. 

Slowly descended, 1 and with right aspect 

Against the eastern gate of Paradise 

Levelled his evening rays : it was a rock 

Of alabaster, piled up to the clouds, 

Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent 

Accessible from earth, one entrance high , 

The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung 

Still as it rose, imposaible to climb. 

Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel 2 sot. 

Chief of the angelic guards, awaiting night; 

About him exercised heroic games 

The unarmed youth of Heaven, but, nigh at hand, 

Celestial armoury, shields, helms, and spears, 

Hung high with diamond flaming, and with gold. 

Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even 3 

On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star 4 

In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fired 

Impress the air, and shows the mariner 

1 Bentley objects to this verse, and reads "had low descended," 
because the sun passes equal spaces in equal times. This is true (as 
"°earce replies) in philosophy, but in poetry it is usual to represent it 
>therwise. But I have a stronger objection to this verse, -which is, that 

it seems to contradict what is said before, ver. 353 : — 

" The sun — was hasting now with prone career 
To th' ocean isles ; " 

and, to reconcile them, I think we must read, " had low descended," 
or perhaps "lowly descended," or understand it as Dr. Pearce ex- 
plains it, that the sun descended " slowly" at this time, because Uriel, 
its angel, came on a sunbeam to Paradise, and was to return on the 
same beam ; which he could not well have done, if the sun had moved 
on with its usual rapidity of course. — Newton. There is no discrepancy, 
\f we recollect that the nearer the sun descends to the horizon, the 
more slowly it seems to fade from the view. 

2 One of the archangels sent to show Daniel the vision of the four 
monarchies and the seventy weeks, Dan. vii. and ix., and to the Virgin 
Mary to reveal the incarnation of our Saviour, Luke i. His name in 
&e Hebrew signifies "the man of God," or " the strength and powei 
0; .>od ;" well, by our author, posted as chief of the angelic guaids 
vlaced about Paradise. — Hume. 

3 i. e. through that part of the heavens, where it was then evening. 

4 Homer, in like manner, compares Minerva's descent from heav^; 
to a shooting star, Iliad, iv. 74, which Pope unfortunately translates . 
tomet, as follows : — 

" Like the red comet, from Saturnius ser>t 
To fright the nations with a dire portent 
(A fatal sign to armies in the plain, 
As trembling sailors on the wintry ro*ojn). k ' 



^K 



b. iv. 559-586. PARADISE LOST. 105 

From what point of his compass to beware 
Impetuous winds : he thus began in haste : 

" Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot hath given 
Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place 
No evil thing approach or enter in. 
This day at height of noon came to my sphere 
A spirit, zealous, as he seemed, to know 
More of the Almighty's works, and chiefly man, 
God's latest image : I described his way 
Bent all on speed, and marked his airy gait; 
But in the mount that lies from Eden north, 
Where he first lighted, soon discerned his looks 
Alien from Heaven, with passions foul obscured : 
Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade 
Lost sight of him : one of the banished crew, 
I fear, hath ventured from the deep, to raise 
New troubles ; him thy care must be to find." 

To whom the winged warrior thus returned: 
" Uriel, no wonder if thy perfect sight, 
Amid the sun's bright circle where thou sitt'st, 
See far and wide : in at this gate none pass 
The vigilance here placed, but such as come 
Well known from Heaven ; and since meridian hour 
No creatine thence : if spirit of other sort, 
So minded, have o'erleaped these earthy bounds 
On purpose, hard thou knowest it to exclude 
Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. 
But if within the circuit of these walks, 

The fall of Phaeton is illustrated by the same comparison by Ovid. 
Wet. ii. 320:— 

" The breathless Phaeton, with flaming hair, 
Shot from the chariot like a falling star, 
That in a summer's evening from the top 
Of Heaven drops down, or seems at least to drop." 

Addison. 
Milton adds that this shooting star " thwarts " or crosses the night 
" in autumn," because then these phenomena are most common aftei 
the heat of summer, when the vapours taking fire made violent im- 
pressions and agitations in the air, and they usually portend tempestu- 
ous weather, as Virgil himself has noted long ago, Georg. i. 365 :— • 
" And oft before tempestuous winds arise, 
The seeming stars fall headlong from the skies ; 
And, shooting through the darkness, gild the night 
With sweeping glories &nd long trails of light." 

Drydeu.— Neuter*. 



•W*- 



4* 



» Cb< — — Hi|» 

106 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 587-616. 

In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom 

Thou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know.' 

So promised he ; and Uriel to his charge 
Returned on that bright beam, whose point now raised 
Bore Mm slope downward to 'die sun, now fallen 
Beneath the Azores ; whether the prime orb, 
Incredible how swift, had thither rolled 
Diurnal, or this less volubil earth, 
By shorter flight to the east, 1 had left him there 
Arraying with reflected purple and gold 
The clouds that on his western throne attend 

Now came still evening on, 2 and twilight gray 
Had in her sober livery all things clad ; 
Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, 
They to their grassy couch, these to then nests 
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale ; 
She all night long her amorous descant sung ; 
Silence was pleased : now glowed the firmament 
With living sapphires : Hesperus, that led 
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, * 
Eising in clouded majesty, at length, 
Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, 
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. 

When Adam thus to Eve : " Fair consort, the hour 
Of night, and all things now retired to rest, 
Mind us of light repose ; since God hath set 
Labour and rest, as day and night, to men 
Successive ; and the timely dew of sleep, 
Now falling with soft slumbrous weight, inclines 
Our eyelids: 3 other creatures all day long 

1 It being " less motion for the earth to move from west to easl 
■ipon its own axis, according to the system of Copernicus, than for the 
heavens and heavenly bodies to move from east to west, according to 
the system of Ptolemy." — Newton. 

2 This is the first evening in the poem ; for the action of the pre- 
ceding books lying out of the sphere of the sun, the time could not be 

I computed. When Satan came first to the earth, and made that famous 

?oliloquy at the beginning of this book, the sun was " high in his 
meridian tower;" and this is the evening of that day; and surely 
there never was a finer evening ; words cannot furnish out a more 
lOvely description." — Newton. 
1 Spenser F. Q. b. i. c. i. s. 36 : — 

" The drooping night thus creepeth on them fast, 
And the sad humour loading their eyelids, 
A.s messenger of Morpheus on them cast 
sweet slumbering dew,thr> which to sleep them bids." — Thtftr, 

4* 4* 



-Kp 4 " 



b. iv. 617-656. PARADISE LOST. 107 

Rove idle unemployed, and le33 need rest ; 
Man hath his daily work of body or mind 
Appointed, which declares his dignity, 
And the regard of Heaven on all his ways ; 
While other animals inactive range, 
And of their doings God takes no account. 
To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east 
With first approach of light, we must be risen, 
And at our pleasant labour, to reform 
Yon flowery arbours, yonder alleys green, 
Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, 
That mock our scant manuring, 1 and require 
More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth ; 
Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums, 
That lie bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth, 
Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease ; 
Meanwhile, as nature wills, night bids us rest." 

To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorned ; 
" My author and disposer, what thou bidd'st 
Unargued I obey ; so God ordains ; 
God is thy law, thou mine : to know no more 
Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. 
With thee conversing I forget all time ; 
All seasons 2 and their change, all please alike. 
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 
With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun, 
When first on this delightful land he spreads 
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower 
Glistering with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth 
After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on 
Of grateful evening mild ; then silent night 
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, 
And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train : 
But neither breath of morn when she ascends 
With charm of earliest birds ; nor rising sun 
On this delightful land ; nor herb, fruit, flower, 
Glistering with dew ; nor fragrance after showers ; 
Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night 
With this her solemn bird ; nor walk by moon, 
Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet. 

'- Manuring i3 net here to be understood in the common sense, bat 
is working with hands, as the French manouvrer ; it is, as immediately 
liter, to lop, to rid away what is scattered. — Richardson. 

" ; i. c of the day, as in viii 69 » ix. 300. 



■H ^- 



-r 



loS MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 657-690, 

But "wherefore all night long shine these ? For whew 
This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?" 

To whom our general ancestor replied : 
"Daughter of God and man, accomplished Eve, 
These have their course to finish round the earth. 
By morrow evening, and from land to land 
h\ order, though to nations yet unborn, 
Ministering light prepared, they set and rise. 
Lest total darkness should by night regain 
Her old possession, and extinguish life 
In nature and all things, which these soft firea 
Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat 
Of various influence foment and warm, 
Temper or nourish, or in part shed down 
Their stellar virtue 1 on all kinds that grow 
On earth, made hereby apter to receive 
Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. 
These, then, though unbeheld in deep of night, 
Shine not in vain ; nor think, though men were none, 
That Heaven would want spectators, God want praise 
Millions of spiritual creatines walk the earth 
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep . 
All these with ceaseless praise his works behold 
Both day and night. How often from the steep 
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard 
Celestial voices to the midnight air, 
Sole, or responsive each to other's note, 
Singing their great Creator ! Oft in bands 
While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk, 
With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds 
In full harmonic number joined, then- songs 
Divide the night, 2 and lift our thoughts to Heaven." 

Thus talking, hand in hand alone they passed 
On to their blissful bower ; it was a place 

It may be remarked, once for all, that Milton's taste for displaying 
lik own learning sometimes betrays him into details at variance with 
the simplicity of poetry, and almost amusingly inconsistent with the 
primitive nature of those of whom he discourses. But he seems tc 
•xave had in mind an old notion, that Adam was minutely acquainted 
with the nature and properties, as well as the names, of all the objects 
•he beheld around him. On the knowledge and wisdom of Adam, tlie 
student may compare an eloquent article in Kitto's Bibl. Cyclop, v. i. 
p. CO. 

2 Into watches, as the sounding of the trumpet did cmong thf 
ancients. 



4~ 



4 



b. iv. 691-717. PARADISE LOST. *°9 

Chosen by the sovereign Planter, when he framed 

All things to man's delightful use ; the roof 

Of thickest covert was inwoven shade 

Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew 

Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side 

Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub, 

Yenced up the verdant wall ; each beauteous flower; 

cris all hues, roses, and jessamine, 

Reared high their flourished heads between, and wrought 

Mosaic; underfoot the violet, 

Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay 

Broidered the ground, 1 more coloured than with stem? 

Of costliest emblem : 2 other creature here. 

Beast, bird, insect, or worm, durst enter none : 

Such was their aw? of man. In shadier bower, 

More sacred and sequestered, though but feigned, 

Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor nymph 

Nor faunus haunted. Here in close recess, 

With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smelling herbs, 

Espoused Eve decked first her nuptial bed, 

And heavenly quires the hymensean sung, 

What clay the genial angel to our sire 

Brought her in naked beauty more adorned, 

More lovely than Pandora, 3 whom the gods 

Endowed with all their gifts, and oh ! too like 

In sad event, when to the unwiser son 

Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnared 

1 Cf. Homer, II. xiv. -where he describes the springing up of flower? 
to f )rm a couch for Jupiter and Juno : — 

" Glad earth perceives, and from her boson, pours 
Unbidden herbs, and voluntary flowers; 
Thick new-born violets a soft carpet spread, 
\nd clustering lotus swelled the rising bed, 
And sudden hyacinths the turf bestrow, 
And flamy crocus made the mountain glow." — Pope. 
3 Design in laying. 

8 Prometheus, the son of Japhet (or Japetus), had stolen fire from 
heaven — Jove's authentic fire, the original and prototype of ill earthli 
fire ; which Jupiter being angry at, to be revenged sent him Pandora 
so called because all the Gods had contributed their gifts to make her 
more charming (for so the word signifies). She was brought bj 
Hermes (Mercury), but was not received by Prometheus, the wise: 
son of Jiphet (as the name implies), but by his brother Epimethens, 
the unwiser son. She enticed his foolish curiosity to open a bo? 
which she brought, wherein vers contained ell manner of evils — 
Richa'dion. 



>* 



h|* 



- AA- 



+m* 



no MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 718-758. 



Manld'nd with her fair loots, to be avenged 
On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire 

Thus at their shady lodge arrived, both stood, 
Both turned, and under open sky adored 
The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heaven. 
Which they beheld; the moon's resplendent globe, 
And starry pole : " Thou 1 also madest the night, 
Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day, 
Which we in our appointed work employed 
Have finished, happy in our mutual help 
And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss, 
Ordained by Ihee, and this delicious place, 
For us too large, where thy abundance wants 
Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. 
But thou hast promised from us two a race 
To fill the earth, who shall with us extol 
Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, 
And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep. 5 ' 

This said unanimous, and other rites 
Observing none, but adoration pure, 
Which God likes best, into their inmost bower 
Handed they went; and, eased the putting off 
These troublesome disguises which we wear, 
Straight side by side were laid ; nor turned, I ween, 
Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites 
Mysterious of connubial love refused ; 
Whatever hypocrites austerely talk 
Of purity, and place, and innocence, 
Defaming as impure what God declares 
Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all 
Our Maker bids increase ; who bids abstain 
But our destroyer, foe to God and man? 
Hail, wedded love ! mysterious law, true source 
Of human offspring, sole propriety 
In Paradise of all things common else. 
By thee adulterous lust was driven from men 
Among the bestial herds to range ; by thee, 
Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 
Relations dear, and all the charities 
Of father, son, and brother first were known. 
Far be it that I should write thee sin or blame, 



1 Observe the magnificence of this sudden change from the obliqin 

mprwev of speaking io the dirse* ^'lrm«. 



-h|>* 



4* 



n. iv. 758-7S7. PARADISE LOST. in 

Or think thee unbefitting holiest place , 
Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets. 
Whose bed is undenled and chaste pronounced, 
Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used. 
Here love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 
lleigns here and revels; not in the bought smile 
Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendeared, 
Casaal fruition ; nor in court amours, 
Mixed dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, 
Or serenade, which the starved lover sings 
To his proud fan-, best quitted with disdain 
These, lulled by nightingales, embracing slept, 
And on their naked limbs the flowery roof 
Showered roses, which the morn repaired. Sleep on, 
Blest pah- ; and oh ! yet happiest, if ye seek 
No happier state, and know to know no more. 

Now had night measured with her shadowy cone 1 
Halfway up-hill 2 this vast sublunar vault, 
And from then ivory port 3 the cherubim, 
Forth issuing at the accustomed horn, stood armed 
To their night watches in warlike parade, 
When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake : 

" Uzziel, 4 half these draw off, and coast the south 
With strictest watch ; these other wheel the north ; 
Our circuit meets full west." As flame they part, 
Half wheeling to the shield, half to the spear.. 
From these, two strong and subtle spirits he called, 
That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge • 

1 This is the form of the shadow of the earth, the hase of the cone 
landing upon that side of the globe where the sun is not, and conse- 
quently when it is night there. This cone, to those who are on the 
darkened side of the earth, could it he seen, would mount as the sun 
tell lower, and be at its utmost height in the vault of their heaven 
•when it was midnight. The shadowy cone had now arisen halfway, 
consequently, supposing it to be about the time when the clays and 
eights were of equal length (as it was x. 329), it must be now aboui 
nine o'clock, the usual time of the angels setting their sentries, as x. 
immediately follows, This is marking the time very poetically.— 
Richardson. 

2 Halfway towards midnight. 

3 As the rock was of alabaster (vi. 543), so he makes the gate of 
ivory, which was very proper for an eastern gate, as the fairest ivory 
comes from the east. — Newton, 

4 Strength of God; the angel next in command to GabreL 

^ — »$« 



&* 



112 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, n. iv. 788-828, 

" Ithuriel and Zephon, 1 with winged speed 
Seareh through this garden ; leave unsearched no nooV l 
"But chiefly where those two fair creatines lodge, 
Now laid, perhaps, asleep, secure of harm. 
This evening from the sun's decline arrived 
Who tells of some infernal spirit seen 
Hitherward bent (who could have thought?) escaped 
The bars of Hell, on errand bad no doubt: 
Such where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring." 

So saying, on he led his radiant files, 
Dazzling the moon: these to the bower direct 
In search of whom they sought : him there they found 
Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, 
Assaying by his devilish art to reach 
The organs of her fancy, and with them forge 
Illusions as he list, phantasms and dreams, 
Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint 
The animal spirits that from pure blood arise 
Like gentle breaths from rivers pure, thence raise 
At least distempered, discontented thoughts, 
Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires, 
Blown up with high conceits engendering pride 
Him thus intent, Ithuriel with his spear 
Touched lightly ; for no falsehood can endure 
Touch of celestial temper, but returns 
Of force to its own likeness : up he starts, 
Discovered and surprised. As when a spark 
Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid 
Fit for the tun some magazine to store 
Against a rumoured war, the smutty grain, 
With sudden blaze diffused, inflames the air : 
So started up in his own shape the fiend. 
Back stepped those two fair angels, half amaze'' 
So sudden to behold the grisly king; 
fet thus, unmoved with fear, accost him soon : 

" Which of those rebel spirits adjudged to Hell 
Comest thou, escaped thy prison ? and, transformed, 
Why satt'st thou like an enemy in wait, 
Here watching at the head of these that sleep ? " 

" Know ye not then," said Satan, filled with scorn. 
" Know ye not me ? Ye knew me once no mate 

1 Two angels having their names as indication of their ofiice*- 
Ithuriel, in Hebrew, " the discovery of God;" Zephon, in Hebrew, "s 
secret, or searcher of secrets." — Hume. 



*^- 



*^» 



t 



«. iv. 829-871. PARADISE LOST. 113 

For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar : 
Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, 
The lowest of your throng ; or if ye know, 
Why ask ye, and superfluous begin 
Your message, like to end as much in vain? " 

To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn ; 
" Think not, revolted spirit, thy shape the same, 
Or undiminished brightness to be known, 
As when thou stood' st in Heaven, upright and pure ; 
That glory then, when thou no more wast good, 
Departed from thee ; and thou resemblest now 
Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul 
But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account 
To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep 
This place inviolable, and these from harm." 

So spake the cherub ; and his grave rebuke, 
Severe in youthful beautv, added grace 
Invincible : abashed the doTil stood, 
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
Virtue in her shape how lovely ; saw, and pined 
His loss ; but chiefly to find here observed 
His lustre visibly impaired ; yet seemed 
Undaunted. " If I must contend," said he, 
" Best, with the best, the sender, not the sent, 
Or ail at once ; more glory will be won, 
Or less be .ost." " Thy fear," said Zephon bold 
" Will save us trial what the least can do 
Single against thee wicked, and thence weak" 

The fiend replied not, overcome with rage ; 
But, like a proud steed reined, went haughty on, 
Champing Iris iron curb : to strive or fly 
He held it vain ; awe from above had quelled 
His heart, not else dismayed. Now drew they nigh 
The western point, where those half-rounding guards 
Just met, and, closing, stood in squadron joined, 
Awaiting next command. To whom their chief, 
Gabriel, from the front thus called aloud : 

" O Mends ! I hear the tread of nimble feet 
Hasting this way, and now by glimpse dis?ern 
Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade, 
And with them comes a third of regal port, 
But faded splendoru wan ; who, by his gait 
And fierce demeanour, seemsUhe prince of Hell, 



*fy ■ — ^ 



•' 



~d* 



114 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 873 



Not likely lo part hence without contest ; 
Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours." 

He scarce had ended, when these two approached, 
And brief related whom they brought, where found, 
How busied, in what form and posture couched. 

To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake : 
" Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed 
To thy transgressions, and disturbed the charge 
Of others, who approve not to transgress 
By thy example, but have power and right 
To question thy bold entrance on this place :. 
Employed, it seems, to violate sleep, and those 
Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss ? " 

To whom thus Satan with contemptuous brow : 
" Gabriel, thou hadst in Heaven the esteem of wise, 
And such I held thee; but this question asked 
Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain ? 
Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, 
Though thither doomed ? Thou wouldst thyself, no doubt. 
And boldly venture to whatever place 
Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change 
Torment with ease, and soonest recompense 
Dole with delight, which in this place I sought; 
To thee no reason, who know'st only good, 
But evil hast not tried ; and wilt object 
His will who bound us ? Let him surer bar 
His iron gates, if he intends our stay 
In that dark durance : thus much what was asked 
The rest is time, they found me where they say ; 
But that implies not violence or harm." 

Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel moved, 
Disdainfully half smiling, thus replied : 
" loss of one in Heaven, to judge of wise, 
Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew, 
And now returns him from his prison 'scaped, 
Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise 
Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hitbe 
Unlicensed from his bounds in Hell prescribed. ; 
So wise he judges it to fly from pain 
However, and to 'scape his punishment. 
So judge thou still, presumptuous, till the wrath, 
Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight 
Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Heli 
Which tvtught thee yet no better, that no pain 



i 



<§► 



4- 



b. iv. 916-959- PARADISE LOST. 115 



Can equal anger infinite provoked. 
But wherefore thou alone ? Wherefore with thee 
Carne not all Hell broke loose ? Is pain to them 
Less pain, less to 1 9 fled ; or thou than they 
Less hardy to endure ? Courageous chief! 
The first in fligh* from pain, hadst thou alleged 
To thy deserted host this cause of flight, 
Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive." 

To which the fiend thus answered, frowning stein ; 
" Not that I less endure or shrink from pain, 
Insulting angel ; well thou know'st I stood 
Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid 
The blasting volleyed thunder made all speed, 
And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. 
But still thy words at random, as before, 
Argue thy inexperience what behoves 
From hard assays and ill successes past, 
A faithful leader, not to hazard all 
Through ways of danger by himself untried : 
I, therefore, I alone first undertook 
To wing the desolate abyss, and spy 
This new created world, whereof in Hell 
Fame is not silent, here in hope to find 
Better abode, and my afflicted powers 
To settle here on earth, or in mid air ; 
Though for possession put to try once more 
What thou and thy gay legions dare against ; 
Whose easier business were to serve their Lord 
High up in Heaven, with songs to hymn his throne 
And practised distances to cringe, not fight." 

To whom the warrior angel soon replied : 
11 To say and straight unsay, pretending first 
Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, 
Argues no leader, but a liar traced, 
Satan, and couldst thou faithful add ? name, 
O sacred name of faithfulness profaned ! 
Faithful to whom ? to thy rebellious crew ? 
Army of fiends, fit body to fit head. 
Was this your discipline and faith engaged. 
Your military obedience, to dissolve 
Allegiance to the acknowledged power supreme? 
And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem 
Patron of liberty, who more than thou 
Once fawned, and cringed, and servilely adored 
I 

A- ■ — Kp* 



♦<§«- 



4* 



m6 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 9 6o- 9 b 9 . 

Heaven's awful monarch? wherefore, hut in hopa 
To dispossess him, and thyself to reign? 
But mark what I arreed 1 thee now : Avaunt! 
Fly thither whence thou fled'st : if from this hour 
Within these hallowed limits thou appear, 
Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chained, 
And seal 2 thee so, as henceforth not to scorn 
The facile gates of Hell, too slightly harred." 

So threatened he ; but Satan to no threats 
Gave heed, but waxing more in rage replied : 

" Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, 
Proud limitary 3 cherub ! But ere then 
Far heavier load thyself expect to feei 
From my prevailing arm, though Heaven's King 
Ride on thy wings, and thou, with thy compeers. 
Used to the yoke, draw'st his triumphant wheels 
In progress through the road of Heaven star-paved. ,; 

While thus he spoke, the angelic squadron bright 
Turned fiery red, sb arpening in mooned horns 
Their phalanx, and began to hem him round 
With ported 4 speais, as thick as when a field 5 
Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends 
Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind 
Sways them ; the careful ploughman doubting stands. 
Lest on the threshing floor his hopeful sheaves 
Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarmed, 
Collecting all his might, dilated stood, 
Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved : 6 
His stature reached the sky, 7 and on his crest 
Sat horror plumed ; nor wanted 8 in his grasp 

1 Award, decree. 2 Cf. Eev. xx. 8. 

3 i. e. who darest to set limits to my movements. 

5 Cf. Horn. II. ii. : — 4 Pointed towards him 
" And as on corn when western gusts descend, 

Before the blast the lofty harvests bend : 

Thus o'er the field the moving host appears, 

With nodding plumes and groves of waving spears." 

Popv 

6 Virgil, Mn. xii. :-— 
" Like Eryx, or like Athos great, he shows, 

Or father Apennine, when white with snows, 

His head divine obscure in clouds he hides, 

And shakes the sounding forest on his side." — Dryden. 

7 Cf. Horn. II. iv. 443 ; Virg. Mn. iv. 177, and Wisdom xiiii, 18 
* Although he had only just resumed his natural form. 



A*. 



•4 



<|k- 4* 

b. iv. 990-1015. PARADISE LOST. 117 

What seemed both spear and shield. Now dreadful deedc 

Might have ensued ; not only Paradise, 

In this commotion, hut the starry cope 

Of Heaven, perhaps, or all the elements 

At least had gone to wrack, disturbed and torn 

With violence of this conflict, had not soon 

The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray, 

Hung forth in Heaven his golden scales, yet seen 

Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign, 

Wherein all things created first he weighed, 

The pendulous round esrth with balanced air 

In counterpoise ; now ponders all events, 

Battles and realms : in these he put two weights, 

The sequel each of parting and of fight ; 

The latter quick up flew, and kicked the beam ;* 

Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend : 

" Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine, 
Neither our own, but given ; what folly, then, 
To boast what arms can do, since thine no more 
Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled now 
To trample thee as mire ! For proof look up, 
And read thy lot in yon celestial sign, 
Where thou art weighed, and shown how light, how weak, 
If thou resist. The fiend looked up, and knew 
His mounted scale aloft : nor more ; but fled 
Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night. 

» Bentley, and probably many others, have misunderstood Milton's 
thought about the scales, judging of it by what they read of Jupiter's 
scales in Homer and Virgil ; the account of which is very different 
from this of Milton ; for in them the fates of the two combatants art 
weighed one against the other, and the descent of one of the scales 
foreshowed the death of him whose fate lay in that scale, quo vergat 
ponder e lethum : whereas, in Milton, nothing is weighed but what 
relates to Satan only, and in the two scales are weighed the two dif- 
ferent events of his retreating and his fighting. From what has been 
said it may appear pretty plainly, that Milton by " sequel " meant thd 
consequence or "event," as it is expressed in ver. 1001, and then there 
will be no occasion for Dr. Bentley's " signal;" both because it is a very 
improper word in this place, and because a " signal of parting and of 
fight" can be nothing else than a signal when to part and when to 
fight ; which he will not pretend to be the poet's meaning. — Pearce. 

2 He does not make the ascending scale the sign of victory, as in 
Homer and Virgil, but of lightness and weakness, according to that of 
Belshazzar, Dan. v. 27, " Thou art weighed hi the balances, and art 
found wanting." So true it is, that Milton oftener imitates Scripture 
than Horaerand Virgil, even where he is thought to imitate them most 



«■ 



t 



n8 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



f^4. 



BOOK V, 



THE ARGUMENT. 

Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream ; 
he likes it not, yet comforts her: they come forth to their day 
labours : their morning hynm at the door of their bower. God, to 
render man inexcusable, sends "Raphael to admonish him of his obe- 
dience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand, who he is, an4 
■«vhy his enemy, and whatever else may avail Adam to know 
Raphael comes down to Paradise ; his appearance described ; his 
coming discerned by Adam afar off, sitting at the door of his bower ; 
he gees out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him 
with the choicest fruits of Paradise got together by Eve ; their dis- 
course at table : Raphael performs his message, minds Adam of bis 
state and of his enemy ; relates, at Adam's request, who that enemy 
is, and how he came to be so, beginning from his first revolt in 
Heaven, and the occasion thereof ; how he drew his legions after 
liim to the parts of the north, and there incited them to rebel with 
him, persuading all but only Abdiel, a seraph, who in argument 
dissuades and opposes him, then forsakes him. 

Now morn her rosy steps in the eastern clirne 

Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, 

When Adam waked, so customed ; for his sleep 

Was airy light, from pure digestion bred, 

And temperate vapours bland, which 1 the only sound 

Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, 

.Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 

Of birds 2 on every bough , so much the more 

His wonder was to find unwakened Eve 

With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, 

1 Viz., his sleep. The words "only sound," mean "the sound 
wione." Thyer compares Spenser, F. Q. v. 2, 30 : " As if the only 
tound thereof she feared." 

8 " Tho rattling boughs and leaves their part did beer." — Fair/an, 



*■$♦ 



♦&- 



*<jh 



l.v. n-44. PARADISE LOST. 119 



As through unquiet rest : he on his siie 
Leaning, half raised, with looks of cordial 10 ft 
Hung over her enamoured, and beheld 
Beauty, which, whether walring or asleep, 
Shot forth peculiar graces ; then with voice 
Mild, a3 when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, 1 
Her hand soft touching, whispered thus: "Awake, 
My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, 
Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight, 
Awake ; the morning shines, and the fresh field 
Calls us; we lose the prime 2 to mark how spring 
Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove, 
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, 
How nature paints her colours, how the bee 
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet." 

Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye 
On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake : 

" O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose, 
My glory, my perfection! glad I see 
Thy face, and morn returned ; for I this night 
(Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed, 
If dreamed, not as I oft am wont, of thee, 
Works of day past, or morrow's next design, 
But of offence and trouble, which my mind 
Knew never till this irksome night: me thought 
Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk, 
With gentle voice ; I thought it thine ; it said, 
'Why sleep'st thou, Eve? Now is the pleasant time, 
The cool, the silent, save where silence yields 
To the night warbling bird, that now awake 
Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song ; now reigns 
Full orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light 
Shadowy sets off the face of tilings; in vain, 
If none regard ; Heaven wakes with all his eye3, d 

1 For this delightful simile Milton was probably obliged to his &d 
Jttirad Ben Jonson in his mask of " Love reconciled to Virtue" :— 

" The fair will think you do 'em wrong, 
Go choose among — but with a mind 
As gentle as the stroking wind 
Runs o'er the gentler flowers." — Song 3rd. — Thjit 

* i. j. the early morning. 
'* Spenser, F. Q. iii. 2,45 :— 

" With how many eyes 
High Heaven beholds,"' <fco. 



■& 



■^ 



♦^ 



T2o MILTON'S POETICAL WOKKS. -v. 45-88 

Whom to behold but thee, nature's desire .- 

In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment 

Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.' 

I rose as at thy call, but found thee not ; 

To find thee I directed then my walk; 

And on, methought, alone I passed through ways 

That brought me on a sudden to the tree 

Of interdicted knowledge : fair it seemed, 

Much fairer to my fancy than by day : 

And as I wondering looked, beside it stood 

One shaped and winged like one of those from Hearer 

By us oft seen ; his dewy locks distilled 

Ambrosia ; on that tree he also gazed ; 

And ' fair plant,' said he, ' with fruit surcharged, 

Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet, 

Nor God, nor man ? Is knowledge so despised ? 

Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste ? 

Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold 

Longer thy offered good : why else set here ? ' 

This said, he paused not, but with venturous arm 

He plucked, he tasted ; me damp horror chilled 

At such bold words vouched with a deed so bold : 

But he thus, overjoyed: ' fruit divine, 

Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropped ; 

Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit 

For gods, yet able to make gods of men : 

And why not gods of men, since good, the more 

Communicated, more abundant grows, 

The author not impaired, but honoured more? 

Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve, 

Partake thou also ; happy though thou art, 

Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst not be : 

Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods 

Thyself a goddess, not to earth confined, 

But sometimes in the air, as we ; sometimes 

Ascend to Heaven, by merit thine, and see 

What life the gods live there, and such I've thou.' 

So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held.. 

Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part 

Which he had plucked; the pleasant savoury smell 

So quickened appetite, that I, methought, 

Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds 

With him I flew, and underneath beheld 

The earth outstretched immense, a prospect wide 



~Y 



*W" 



<> 



i 



".89-132. PARADISE LOST. 121 

And various : wondering at my flight and change 

To this high exaltation, suddenly 

My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down, 

And fell asleep ; but oh, how glad I waked 

To find this hut a dream ! " Thus Eve her night 

Related, and thus Adam answered sad : 

"Best image of myself, and dearer half, 
The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep 
Affects me equally; nor can I like 
This uncouth dream, of evil sprung, I fear ; 
Yet evil whence? in thee can harbour non°, 
Created pure. But know, that in the soul 
Are many lesser faculties, that serve 
Reason as chief; among these, fancy next 
Her office holds ; of all external things, 
Which the five watchful senses represent, 
She forms imaginations, airy shapes, 
Which reason, joining or disjoining, frames 
All what we affirm or what deny, and call 
Our knowledge or opinion ; then retires 
Into her private cell when nature rests. 
Oft in her absence mimic fancy wakes 
To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes, 
Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams, 
111 matching words and deeds long past or late. 
Some such resemblances methinks I find 
Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream, 
But with addition strange ; yet be not sad : 
Evil into the mind of God or man 
May come and go, so unapproved, and leave 
No spot or blame behind : which gives me hope 
That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dreain, 
Waking thou never wilt consent to do. 
Be not disheartened, then, nor cloud those looks, 
That wont to be more cheerful and serene, 
Than when fair morning first smiles on the world , 
And let us to our fresh employments rise 
Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers 
That open now their choicest bosomed smells, 
Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store." 

So cheered he his fair spouse, and she was cheered 
But silently a gentle tear let fall 
From either eye, and wiped them with her hair 
Two other precious drops that ready stood. 



t 



4> 



122 



-tB 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. v. 133-174. 



Each in their crystal sluice, he, ere they fell, 
Kissed, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse 
And pious awe, that feared to have offended. 

So all was cleared, and to the field they haste 
But first, from under shady arborous roof, 
Soon as they forth were come to open sight 
Of day-spring, and the sun, who scarce up risen, 
With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean brim, 
fjhot parallel to the earth his dewy ray, 
Discovering in wide landscape all the east 
Of Paradise an J Eden's happy plains, 
Lowly they bowed adoring, and began 
Their orisons, each morning duly paid 
In various style ; for neither various style 
Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 
Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced or sung 
Unmeditated ; such prompt eloquence 
Flowed from their lips, in prose or numerous verse, 
More tuneable than needed lute or harp 
To add more sweetness ; and they thus began . 

" These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, 
Almighty ! Thine this universal frame, 
Thus wondrous fair ; thyself how wondrous then, 
Unspeakable ! who sitt'st above these heavens, 
To us invisible, or dimly seen 
In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare 
Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine 
Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, 
Angels ; for ye behold him, and with songs 
And choral symphonies, day without night, 
Circle Ins throne rejoicing ; ye in Heaven, 
On earth join all ye creatures to extol 
Him first, him last, him midst, and without enr. 
Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, 
If better thou belong not to the dawn, 
Sure pledge of clay, that crown'st the smiling mom 
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, 
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. 
Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul, 
Acknowledge him thy greater, 1 sound his praise 
[n thy eternal 2 course, both when thou climb'st, 
*.Vid when high noon hast gained, and when thou fall'&l 

1 Bentley would read, " acknowledge thy Creator." 
1 i. e. continual. 



4* 



■e* 



♦A, : ►&* 

r 

b. v. 175-208. PARADISE LOST. 

Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun. now fli'st, 

With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies, 

And ye five other wandering fixes that move 

In mystic dance not without song, 1 resound 

His praise, who out of darkness called up light 

Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth 

Of nature's womb, that in quaternion' run 

Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix 

And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change 

Vary to our great Maker still new praise. 

Ye mists and exhalations that now rise 

From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray, 

Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, 

In honour to the world's great Author rise, 

Whether to deck with clouds the uncoloured sky, 

Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, 

Rising or falling still advance his praise. 

His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, 

Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines ; 

With every plant, in sign of worship wave. 

Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow 

Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. 

Join voices, all ye living souls; s ye birds, 

That singing up to Ileaven-gate ascend, 4 

Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. 

Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk 

The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep ; 

Witness if I be silent, morn or even, 

To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, 

Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. 

Hail, universal Lord ! be bounteous still 

To give us only good; and if the night 

Have gathered aught of evil or concealed, 

Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark." 

1 Alluding to the doctrine of the ancients, and particularly to Ty 
thagoras' notion of the music of the spheres, by which no doubt h. 
understood the proportion, regularity, and harmony of their motion. 
— New ion. 

2 i. e. that in a fourfold mixture and combination ran a perpet.ua 
circle, one element continually taking place of another. 

3 " Soul " is used here, as it sometimes is in Scripture, for other 
treatures besides man. So, Gen. i. 20, " the moving creature that hath 
* life," that is " soul," in the Hebrew. — Newton. 

4 So, Oynibeline, act ii. : — 
" Hark, hark ! the J ark at Heaven's gare sings." 



J\\i 



4 



*4h — ><&♦ 

124 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. v. 209-243. 

So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts 
Firm peace recovered 1 soon, and wonted calm. 
On to their morning's rural work they haste 
Among sweet dews and flowers ; where any row 
Of fruit-trees, over-woody, reached too far 
Their pampered 2 boughs, and needed hands to check 
Fruitless embraces : or they led the vine 
To wed her elm ; she, spoused, about him twines 
Her marriageable arms, and with her brings 
Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn 
His barren leaves. Them thus employed beheld 
With pity Heaven's high King, and to him called 
Raphael, the sociable spuifr-, that deigned 
To travel with Tobias, and secured 
His marriage with the seven-times- wedded maid. 

" Raphael," said he, " thou hear'st what stir on eafu. 
Satan, from hell 'scaped through the darksome gulf, 
Hath raised in Paradise, and how disturbed 
This night the human pair ; how he designs 
In them at once to ruin all mankind. 
Go, therefore, half this day, as friend with friend 
Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade 
Thou find'st him from the heat of noon retired, 
To respite his day labour with repast, 
Or with repose ; and such discourse bring on, 
As may advise him of his happy state, 
Happiness in his power left free to will, 
Left to his own free will, his will though free, 
Yet mutable ; whence warn him to beware 
He swerve not, too secure : tell him withal 
His danger, and from whom ; what enemy, 
Late fallen himself from Heaven, is plotting now 
The fall of others from like state of bliss ; 
By violence? no, for that shall be withstood; 
But by deceit and lies; this let him know, 

i. e. being recovered. 
2 The propriety of this expression will best be seen by what Junius 
lays of the etymology of the word pamper. The French word pamprt, 
nf the Latin pampinus, is a vine branch full of leaves ; and a vineyard, 
te observes, is said by them pamprer, when it is overgrown with su- 
perfluous leaves and fruitless branches. Gallis pampre est pampinus ' 
flnde iis pamprer dicitur vinea supervacuo pampinorum germice ex- 
'•berans, ac nimia crescendi luxuria quodammodo sylvescene.- - 
flewton. 






<> 



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n.v. 244-283. PARADISE LOST. 125 

Lest, wilfully transgressing, he pretend 
Surprisal, unadmonished, unforewarned." 

So spake the Eternal Father, and fulfilled 
All justice : nor delayed the winged saint 
After his charge received ; hut from among 
Thousand celestial ardours, 1 where he stood 
Veiled with his gorgeous wings, up springing light 
Flew through the midst of Heaven ; the angelic quires, 
On each hand parting, to his speed gave way 
Through all the pmpyreal road ; till at the gate 
Of Heaven arrived, the gate self-opened wide 
On golden hinges turning, as hy work 
Divine the sovran Architect had framed. 
From hence no cloud, or, to ohstruct his sight, 
Star interposed, 2 however small he sees, 
Not unconform to other shining globes, 
Earth and the garden of God, with cedars crowned 
Above all hills. As when hy night the glass 
Of Galileo, less assured, 3 observes 
Imagined lands and regions in the moon • 
Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades 
Delos or Samos first appearing, kens 
A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight 
He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky 
Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing, 
Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan 
Winnows the buxom 4 air; till within soar 
Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems 
A phoenix, gazed by all, as that sole bird, 
When, to enshrine his rfttfe* in the sun's 
Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies. 
At once on the eastern 5 cliff of Paradise 
He lights, and to his proper shape returns 
A seraph winged : six wings he wore, to shade 
His lineaments divine ; the pair that clad 
Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast 
With regal ornament ; the middle pair 
Girt like a starry zone his waist and round 
Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold, 
And colours dipped in Heaven ; the third his feet 

1 Seraphim, that word, like " ardours," being derived from n vojM 
fignifyhig to burn, and therefore expressing zeal, fervency. 

2 i. e. being interposed. Cf. v. 210. 3 i. e. than the angei ww. 
Yielding, fieyible. 5 Where the entauice to Paradise W3*. 



•9 



■^ 



<' 



M 



•*• 



4> 



126 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, u. v. 284-324. 

Shadowed from either heel with feathered mail, 

Sky -tinctured grain. Like Maia's son he stood, 

And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance filled 

The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the hands 

Of angels under watch ; and to his state, 

And to his message high, in honour rise ; 

For on some message high they guessed him bound. 

Their glittering tents he passed, and now is come 

Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, 

And flowering odours, cassia, nard, and balm ; 

A wilderness of sweets ; for Nature here 

Wantoned as in her prime, and played at will 

Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, 

Wild above rule or art; enormous bliss. 

Him through the spicy forest onward come, 

Adam discerned, as in theoloor he sat 

Of his cool bower, while now the mounted sun 

8hot down direct his fervid rays to warm 

Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam ueeda; 

And Eve within, due at her hour prepared 

For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please 

True appetite, and not disrelish thirst 

Of nectarous draughts between, from milky stream, 

Berry or grape \ x to whom thus Adam called : 

" Haste hither, Eve, and worth thy sight behold 
Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape 
Comes this way moving ; seems another morn 
Risen on mid-noon ; some great behest from Heaver 
To us, perhaps, he brings, and will vouchsafe 
This day to be our guest. But go with speed, 
And what thy stores contain bring forth, and pour 
Abundance, fit to honour and receive 
Our heavenly stranger : well we may afford 
Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow 
From large bestowed, where Nature multiplies 
Her fertile growth, and by disbiudening grows 
More fruitful, which instructs us not to spare." 

To whom thus Eve : " Adam, earth's hallowed mould, 
Of God inspired, small store will serve, where store, 
AH seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk; 
Save what by frugal storing firmness gains 

1 Ncah is, however, supposed to have been the inventor of wine 
Milton probably means the unfermented juice expressed froia 
fruits, 



4* 



*^7"*~ 



b v. 325-566. PARADISE LOST. 127 

To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes: 
But I will haste, and from each hough and hrake, 
Each plant and juries t gourd, will pluck such choke 
To entertain our angel-guest, as he 
Beholding shall confess, that here on earth 
God hath dispensed his bounties as in Heaven " 

So saying, with despatchful looks, in haste 
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent 
What choice to choose for delicacy best, 
What order, so contriv'd as not to mix 
Tastes, not well joined, inelegant, but bring 
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change ; 
Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk 
Whatever earth, all-bearing mother, yields 
In India, East or West, or middle shore 
In Pontus, or the Punic coast, or where 
Alcinous reign'd, fruit of all kinds, in coat 
Rough, or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell, 
She gathers, tribute large, and on the board 
Heaps with unsparing hand ; for drink, the grape 
She crushes, inoffensive must, 1 and meaths 2 
From many a berry, and from sweet kernels pressed 
She tempers dulcet creams; nor these to hold 
Wants her fit vessels pure ; then strews the ground 
With rose and odours from the shrub unfumed. 

Meanwhile our primitive great sire, to meet 
His godlike guest, walks forth, without more train 
Accompanied than with Ins own complete 
Perfections ; in himself was all Ins state, 
More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits 
On princes, when then rich retinue long 
Of horses led, and grooms besmeared with gold, 
Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. 
Nearer his presence Adam, though not awed, 
Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek 
As to a superior nature, bowing low, 
Thus said : " Native of Heaven, for other place 
None can, than Heaven, such glorious shape contain 
Since, by descending from the thrones above, 
Those happy places thou hast deigned awhile 
To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us 
Two only, who yet by sovran gift possess 

Must'un. ne(Y wuw. 2 Sweet drinks, like imnd. 

<<¥* — — ^ 



128 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. v. 367-406. 

This spacious ground, in yonder shady "bower 
To rest, and what the garden choicest hears 
To sit and taste, till this meridian heat 
Be over, and the sun more cool decline " 

Whom thus the angelic virtue answered mild ; 
" Adam, I therefore came, nor art thou such 
Created, or such place hast here to dwell, 
As may not oft invite, though spirits of Heaven, 
To visit thee ; lead on, then, where thy hower 
O'ershades ; for these mid-hours, till evening rise, 
I have at will." So to the sylvan lodge 
They came, that like Pomona's arbour smiled 
With flowerets decked and fragrant smells ; hut Eve, 
Undecked save with herself, more lovely fair 
Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feigned 
Of three that in mount Ida naked strove, 1 
Stood to entertain her guest from Heaven ; no veil 
She needed, virtue-proof ; no thought infirm 
Altered her cheek. On whom the angel " Hail ! " 
Bestowed, the holy salutation used 
Long after to blest Mary, second Eve : 

" Hail, mother of mankind ! whose fruitful womb 
Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons, 
Than with these various fruits the trees of God 
Have heaped this table." Eaised of grassy turf 
Their table was, and mossy seats had round, 
And on her ample square, from side to side, 
All autumn 2 piled, though spring and autumn here 
Danced hand in hand. A while, discourse they hold, 
No fear lest dinner cool ; when thus began 
Our author : " Heavenly stranger, please to taste 
These bounties, which om* Nourisher, from whom 
All perfect good, unmeasured out, descends, 
To us for food and for delight hath caused 
The earth to yield : unsavoury food, perhaps, 
To spiritual natures ; only this I know, 
That one celestial Father gives to all." 

To whom the augel : " Therefore, what he gives 
(Whose praise be ever sung) to man, in part 
Spiritual, may of purest spirits be found 

1 Alluding to the contest of Juno, Minerva, and Venus, foi the prf*? 
Uf beauty. 

2 All tfce fruits of autumn. 



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b.v. 407-436. PARADISE LOST. 129 

No ingrateful food: 1 and food alike those pure 

Intelligential substances require, 

As doth, your rational ; and both contain 

Within thern every lower faculty 

Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste. 

Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate, 

And corporeal to incorporeal turn. 

For know, whatever was created, needs 

To be sustained and fed ; of elements 

The grosser feeds the purer, earth the sea, 

Earth and the sea feed air, the air those fires 

Ethereal, and, as lowest, first the moon ; 

Whence in her visage round those spots, unpurged 

Vapours not yet into her substance turned. 2 

Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhale 

From her moist continent to higher orbs. 

The sun, that light imparts to all, receives 

From all his alimental recompense 

In humid exhalations, and at even 

Sups with the ocean. Though in Heaven the trees 

Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines 3 

Yield nectar ; though from off the boughs each morn 

We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground 

Covered with pearly grain : yet God hath here 

Varied his bounty so with new delights, 

As may compare with Heaven ; and to taste, 

Think not I shall be nice." So down they sat, 

And to their viands fell ; nor seemingly 

The angel, nor in mist, the common gloss 

Of theologians ; 4 but with keen despatch 

1 There being mention made in Scripture of " angel's food," Psal. 
Ixxviii. 25, that is foundation enough for a poet to build upon, and 
advance these notions of the angels eating.— Newton. 

2 We must, throughout these passages, charitably bear in mind the 
fact that Milton was a poet, not a philosopher. 

3 In mentioning "trees of life," and "vines" in Heaven, he ill 
justified by Scripture. See Rev. xxii. 2 ; Matt. xxvi. 29. As in speak- 
ing afterwards of "mellifluous dews" and "pearly grain," he mani' 
festly alludes to manna, which is called " the bread of heaven," PsaL 
cv. 40 ; " And when the dew that lay wiis gone up, behold upon thu 
face of the wilderness there lay a small round thing, as small as the 
hoar frost on the ground," Exod. xvi. 14 ; " and it was like coriander- 
seed, white ; and the taste of it was like wafers made with honey," 
ver. 31. — Newton. 

4 The usual comment and exposition of divines. For several of tho 
fathers were of opinion that the angels did not really eat, but any 
aeemed so to de. — New tori. 

L 4. 



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* 



130 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. v. 437 -475. 

Of real hunger, and concoctive heat 

To transubstantiate : what redounds, transpires 

Through spirits with ease ; nor wonder, if by fire 

Of sooty coal the empiric alchemist 

€an turn, or holds it possible to turn, 

Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold, 

(Vs from the mine. Meanwhile at table, Eve 

Ministered naked, and their flowing cups 

With pleasant liquors crowned : * innocence 

Deserving Paradise ! If ever, then, 

Then had the sons of God excuse to have been 

Enamoured 2 at that sight; but in those hearts 

Love unlibidinous reigned, nor jealousy 

Was understood, the injuied lover's hell. 

Thus when with meats and drinks they had sufficed, 
Not burdened nature, sudden mind arose 
In Adam, not to let the occasion pass, 
Given him by this great conference, to know 
Of things above his world, and of their being 
Who dwell in Heaven, whose excellence he saw 
Transcend his own so far, whose radiant forms, 
Divine effulgence, whose high power, so far 
Exceeded human; and his wary 1 speech 
Thus to the empyreal minister he framed ■ 

*' Inhabitant with God, now know I well 
Thy favour, in this honour done to man, 
Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsafed 
To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, 
Food not of angels, yet accepted so, 
As that more willingly thou couldst not seen. 
At Heaven's high feasts to have fed : yet what compare?* 

To whom the winged hieraroh replied : 
" O Adam, one Almighty is, from whom 
All things proceed, and up to him return, 
If not depraved from good, created all 
Such to perfection, 4 one first matter all, 
Endued with various forms, various degrees 
Of substance, and in things that live, of life ; 
But more refined, more spirituous, and pure, 

1 i. e. filled to the brim. 2 An allusion to Genes, vi. 2. 

3 He was afraid to ask such questions directly, and therefore 
tempered his speech with caution and modesty. 

4 i. e. not absolutely good, but perfect in their differex.l kinds and 



4 



* 



B. V. 476—51I. 



PARADISE LOST. 



'3* 



♦e- 



As nearer to him placed or nearer tending, 1 

Each in their several active spheres assigned, 

Till body up to spirit work, in bounds 

Proportioned to each Jkind. So from the root 

Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves 

More airy, last the bright consummate flower 

Spirits odorous breathes : flowers and their fruit, 

Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublimed, 

To vital spirits aspire, to animal, 

To intellectual ; give both life and sense, 

Fancy and understanding ; whence the soul 

Reason receives, and reason is her being, 

Discursive, 2 or intimtive ; discourse 

Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours, 

Differing but in degree, of kind the same 

Wonder not, then, what God for you saw good, 

If I refuse not, but convert, as you, 

To proper substance: time may come, when mea 

With angels may participate, and find 

No inconvenient diet, nor too light fare; 

And from these corporal nutriments, perhaps, 

Your bodies may at last ton all to spirit, 

Improved by tract of time, and winged ascend 

Ethereal, as we ; or may, at choice, 

Here or in heavenly Paradises dwell ; 

If ye be found obedient, and retain 

Unalterably firm his love entire, 

Whose progeny you are. 3 Meanwhile, enjoy 

Your fill what happiness this happy state 

Can comprehend, incapable of more." 

To whom the patriarch of mankind replied : 
" favourable spirit, pr opitious guest, 
Well hast thou taught the way that might direct 
Our knowledge, and the scale of nature set 
from centre to circumference, whereon, 
In contemplation of created things, 

1 So Spenser, in his " Hymn of Heavenly Beanty," speaking of the 
iiirlh, the air, and above that the pure crystalline — 

" By view whereof it plainly may appear, 
That still as everything doth upward tend, 
And farther is from earth, so still more dear 
And fair it grows," &c. Tky*r 

* f. e. inferential, argumentative. 

' Kc.ia ■svii. 28 " "For we are also his offspring horn AraLus. 



^4 



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4* 



132 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. v. 5 i 2 - ss & 

By steps we may ascend to God. But say, 

What meant that caution joined, ' if ye be found 

Obedient?' Can we want obedience then 

To him, or possibly his love desert, 

Who formed us from the dust, and placed us here, 

Full to the utmost measure of what bliss 

Human desires can seek or apprehend ? " 

To whom the angel: " Son of Heaven and earth. 
Attend : that thou art happy, owe to God; 
That thou contmuest such, owe to thyself, 
That is, to thy obedience ; therein stand. 
This was that caution given thee ; be advisad 
God made thee perfect, not immutable ; 
And good he made thee, but to persevere 
He left it in thy power ; ordained thy will, 
By nature free, not over-ruled by fate 
Inextricable, or strict necessity : 
Our voluntary service he requires, 
Not our necessitated ; such with him 
"Finds no acceptance, nor can find ; for how 
Dan hearts, not free, be tried whether they serve 
Willing or no, who will but what they must 
t}y destiny, and can no other choose ? 
Myself, and all the angelic host, that stand 
In sight of God enthroned, our happy state 
Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds; 
On other surety none : freely we serve, 
Because we freely love, as in our will 
To love or not ; in this we stand or fall : 
And some are fallen, to disobedience fallen, 
And so from Heaven to deepest Hell ; fall 
Yrom what high state of bliss, into what woe ! " 

To whom our great progenitor : " Thy words 
i .attentive, and with more delighted ear, 
"Divine instructor, I have heard, than when 
Cherubic songs by night from neighbouring hills 
Aerial music send : nor knew I not 
To be both will and deed created free ; 
Yet that we never shall forget to love 
Our Maker, and obey him, whose command 
Single is yet so just, my constant thoughts 
Assured me, and still assure : though what thou tell'sfc 
Hath passed in Heaven, some doubt within me move, 
3ut more desire to hear, if thou consent 



A 


v.. 




----- HPrt* 


*<j 


T 




M^ 




B. V. SS6— S9I- 


PARADISE LOST. 


133 



The full relation, which must needs be strange > 
Worthy of sacred silence to be heard; 
And we have yet large day, for scarce the sun 
Hath finished half his journey, and scarce begin? 
His other half in the great zone of Heaven," 

Thus Adam made request ; and Raphael, 
After short pause assenting, thus began : 

" High matter thou enjoin' st me, prime of men, 
Sad task and hard ; for how shall I relate 
To human sense the invisible exploits 
Of warring spirits ? how, without remorse, 
The ruin of so many glorious once 
And perfect while they stood ? how last unfold 
The secrets of another world, perhaps 
Not lawful to reveal ? yet for thy good 
This is dispensed ; and what surmounts the reach 
Of human sense, I shall delineate so, 
By likeuing spiritual to corporal forms, 
As may express them best ; though what if earth 
Be but the shadow of Heaven, and things therein 
Each to other like, more than on earth is thought? 

" As yet this world was not, and Chaos wild [rests 

Reigned where these Heavens now roll, where earth now 
Upon her centre poised ; when on a day 
(For time, though in eternity, applied 
To motion, measures all tilings durable 
By present, past, and future), on such day 
As Heaven's great year 1 brings forth the empyreal host 
Of angels, by imperial summons called, 
Innumerable before the Almighty's throne 
Forthwith from all the ends of Heaven appeared 
IJnder their hierarchs in orders bright; 
Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanced 
Standards and gonfalons 2 'twixt van and rear 
Stream in the air, and for distinction serve 
Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees; 6 

1 Plato's great year of the heavans is the revolution of all the 
spheres. Everything returns to where it set out when their motior 
first began. — Richardson. 

2 A kind of streamer. 

3 That there were different grades of angels in Heaven seems 
sufficiently evident from Scripture, although the speculations of the 
Fathers (especially of the Pseudo-Dionysius Areopagita on the sub- 
ject) are of little value. 

i$* *<>♦ 



& 



134 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. v. 592-633. 



Or in their glittering tissues bear emblazed 
Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love 
Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs 
Of circuit inexpressible they stood, 
Orb within orb> the Father infinite, 
By whom in bliss embosomed sat the Son, 
Amidst as from a flaming mount, whose top 
Brightness had made invisible, 1 thus spake . 

" ' Hear, all ye angels, progeny of light 
Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 
Hear my decree, which unrevoked shall stand. 
This day I have begot 2 whom I declare 
My only Son, and on this holy hill 
Him have anointed, whom ye now behold 
At my right hand; jour head I him appoint, 
And by myself have sworn to him shall bow 
All knees in Heaven, and shall confess him Lord . 
Under his great vicegerent reign abide 
United as one individual soul, 
For ever happy : him who disobeys, 
Me disobeys, breaks union, and that day, 
CiuSt out from God and blessed vision, falls 
Into utter darkness, deep engulfed, his place 
Ordained without redemption, without end.' 

" So spake the Omnipotent, and with his words 
All seemed well pleased ; all seemed, but were not all 
That day, as other solemn days, they spent 
In song and dance about the sacred hill ; 
Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere 
Of planets and of fixed in all her wheels 
Resembles nearest, mazes intricate, 
Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular 
Then most, when most irregular they seem , 
And in their motions harmony divine 
So smoothes her charming tones, that God's own ear 
Listens delighted. Evening now approached 
(For we have also our evening and our morn, 
We ours for change delectable, not need) ; 
Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn 
Desirous ; all in circles as they stood, 
Tables are set, and on a sudden piled 
With angels' food, and rubied nectar flows 

1 Cf. vi. 380. 

3 Pa. ii. 6, si. ; Genes, uai. 18 ; Phil, ii, 10, ug. 



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4. 



b. v. 634-676. PARADISE LOST. 135 

In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold, 

Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heaven, 

On flowers reposed, and with fresh flowerets crowned, 

They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet 

Quaff immortality and joy, secure 

Of surfeit where full measure only bounds 

Excess, before the all-bounteous King, who showered 

With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. 

Now when ambrosial night, with clouds exhaled 

From that high mount of God, whence light and shade 

Spring both, the face of brightest Heaven had changed 

To grateful twilight (for night comes not there 

fn darker veil), and roseate dews disposed 

All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest; 

Wide over all the plain, and wider far 

Than all this globous earth in plain outspread 

(Such are the courts of God), the angelic throng, 

Dispersed in bands and files, then camp extend 

By living streams among the trees of life, 

Pavilions numberless, and sudden reared, 

Celestial tabernacles, where they slept, 

Fanned with cool winds ; save those who in their course 

Melodious hymns about the sovereign throne 

Alternate all night long : but not so waked 

Satan; so call Mm now, his former name 

Is heard no more in Heaven ; he of the first 

If not the first archangel, great in power, 

In favour and pre-eminence, yet fraught 

With envy against the Son of God, that day 

Honoured by his great Father, and proclaimed 

Messiah King anointed, could not bear 

Through pride that sight, and thought himself impaired 

Deep malice thence conceiving and disdain, 

Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour 

Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolved 

With all his legions to dislodge, and leave 

"Unworshipped, unobeyed, the throne supreme, 

Contemptuous; and his next subordinate 

Awakening, thus to him in secret spake : 

" ' Sleep'st thou, 1 companion dear ? What sleep can clos* 
Thy eye-lids, and rememberest what decree 
Of yesterday, so late hath passed the lips 
Of Heaven's Almighty ? Thou to me thy thoughts 
» From Homer. II. ii 23. 



*iY~ <> 



A, 



136 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. v. 677-71* 



Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont to impart; 
Both waking we were one ; how then can now 
Thy sleep dissent ? New laws thou seest imposed ; 
New laws from him who reigns, new minds may raise 
In us who serve, new counsels, to debate 
What doubtful may ensue : more in this place 
To utter is not safe Assemble thou 
Of all those myriacSv which we lead the chief; 
Tell them that by command, ere yet dim night 
Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste, 
And all who under me their banners wave, 
Homeward with flying march where we possess 
The quarters of the north ; there to prepare 
Fit entertainment to receive our King, 
The great Messiah, and his new commands, 
Who speedily through all the hierarchies 
Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws.' 

" So spake the false archangel, and infused 
Bad influence into the unwary breast 
Of his associate : he together calls, 
Or several one by one, the regent powers, 
Under him regent ; tells, &<j he was taught, 
That the Most High commanding, now ere night 
Now ere dim night had disencumbered Heaven, 
The great hierarchal standard was to move , 
Tells the suggested cause, and casts between 
Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound 
Or taint integrity : but all obeyed 
The wonted signal, and superior voice 
Of their great potentate ; for great indeed 
His name, and high was his degree in Heaven , 
His countenance, as the morning-star that guidee 
The starry flock, allured them, and with lies 
Drew after him the third part 1 of Heaven's host 
Meanwhile the eternal eye, whose sight discerns 
Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy mount. 
And from within the golden lamps that bum 
Nightly before him, saw without their light 
Rebellion rising ; saw in whom, how spread 
Among the sons of morn, what multitudes 
Were banded to oppose his high decree ; 
And, smiling, 2 to his only Son thus said : 

" ' Son, thou in whom my glory I behold 

Rev. xii 8, sq 2 Cf I*s. ii. 1, vqq. 



*^* 



•0 



b. v. 720-762. PARADISE LOST. 137 

tn full resplendence, heir of all my might, 
Nearly it now concerns us to be sure 
Of our omnipotence, and with what arms 
We mean to hold what anciently we claim 
Of deity or empire ; such a foe 
Is rising, who intends to erect his throne 
Equal to ours, throughout the spacious north, 
Nor so content, hath in his thought to try 
In battle, what our power is, or our right. 
Let us advise, and to this hazard draw 
With speed what force is left, and all employ 
In our defence, lest unawares we lose 
This our high place, our sanctuary, our hill.' 

" To whom the Son, with calm aspect and clear, 
Lightning divine, 1 ineffable, serene, 
Made answer : ' Mighty Father, thou thy foes 
Justly hast in derision, and secure 
Laugh' st at their vain designs and tumults vain, 
Matter to me of glory, whom their hate 
Illustrates, wl en they see all regal power 
Given me to quell their pride, and in event 
Know whether I be dexterous to subdue 
Thy rebels, or be found the worst in Heaven ' 

" So spake the Son ; but Satan with his powers 
Far was advanced on winged speed, an host 
Innumerable as the stars of night, 
Or stars of morning, dew-drops, which the sun 
Impearls on every leaf and every flower. 
Kegions they passed, the mighty regencies 
Of seraphim, and potentates, and thrones, 
In their triple degrees ; regions to which 
411 thy dominion, Adam, is no more 
Than what this garden is to all the earth, 
And all the sea, from one entire globose 
Stretched into longitude ; which having passed, 
&t length into the limits of the north 
They came, and Satan to Iris royal seat, 
High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount 
Raised on a mount, with pyramids and towers, 
From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of goll, 
The palace of great Lucifer (so call 
That structure in the dialect of men 
Interpreted), which not long after, he 
1 t. e. bright, clear as lightning. Cf. Dan. x. 6; Matt, xxviii. %, 



^ 



<h 



*&+- — - — — — — . — ^ 

138 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b, v. 763-80* 

Affecting all equality with God, 
In imitation of that mount whereon 
Messiah was declared in sight of Heaven, 
The Mountain of the Congregation 1 called; 
For thither he assemhled all Ms train, 
Pretending so commanded to consult 
About the great reception of their King 
Thither to come, and with calumnious art 
Of counterfeited truth thus held their ears: 

" ' Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers 
If these magnific titles yet remain 
Not merely titular, since by decree 
Another now hath to himself engrossed 
All power, and us eclipsed, under the name 
Of King anointed, for whom all this haste 
Of midnight march, and hurried meeting here, 
This only to consult ; how we may best, 
With what rpuy be devised of honours new, 
Receive him coming to receive from us 
Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile, 
Too much to one, but double how endured, 
To one and to his image now proclaimed ? 
But what if better counsels might erect 
Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke ? 
Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend 
The supple knee ? Ye will not, if I trust 
To know ye right, or if ye kn<w yourselves, 
Natives and sons of Heaven, possessed before 
By none, and if not equal all, yet free, 
Equally free; for orders and degrees 
Jar not with liberty, but well consist.' 3 
Who can in reason then, or right, assuma 1 
Monarchy over such as live by right 
His equals, if in power and splendour les3, 
, In freedom equal ? or can introduce 
Law and edict on us, who, without law, 
Err not ? much le?s for this to be our Lord, 
And look for adoration, to the abuse 

Isa. siv. 13. a ». e. agree. 

i. e who can assume monarchy, &c, much less can any ona 
introduce law . . . or that this «ne (i. e. the Messiah, as in v. 775 ; 
777) to be our Lord, and seek adoration by tbe abus'j of these titles, 
&e. The passage is, however, far from satisfactory and has giren 
rise to much discussion. 



4- 



A^ — — ^ 

b. v. 801-844. PARADISE LOST. 139 

Of those imperial titles, which assert 

Our being ordained to govern, not to serve." 

" Thus far his bold discourse without control 
Had audience, when among the seraphim 
Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal adored 
The Deity, and divine commands obeyed, 
Stood up, and in a flame of zeal severe, 
The current of his fury thus opposed : 

" ' Oh, argument blasphemous, false and proud J 
Words which no ear ever to hear in Heaven 
Expected, least of all from thee, in grate, 
In place thyself so high above thy peers. 
Canst thou with impious obloquy condemn 
The just decree of God, pronounced and sworn, 
That to his only Son, by right endued 
With regal sceptre, every soul in Heaven 
Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due 
Confess him rightful King? unjust, thou sayest, 
Flatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, 
And equal over equals to let reign, 
One over all with unsucceeded power. 
Shalt thou give law to God ? shalt thou dispute 
With him the points of liberty, who made 
Thee what thou art, and formed the powers of Heaven 
Such as he pleased, and circumscribed their being ? 
Yet, by experience taught, we know how gooc 1 , 
And of our good and of our dignity 
How provident he is, how far from thought 
To make us less, bent rather to exalt 
Our happy state under one head more near 
United. But to grant it thee unjust, 
That equal over equals monarch reign : 
Thyself, though great and glorious, dost thou count, 
Or all angelic nature joined in one, 
Equal to him begotten Son? by whom, 
As by his Word, the mighty Father made 
All tilings, even thee ; and all the spirits of Heaver. 
By him created in their bright degrees, 
Crowned them with glory, and to their glory named 
Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 
Essential powers; nor by his reign obscured, 
But more illustrious made; since he the head, 
One of our number thus reduced becomes ; 
. pis laws our laws; all honour to him done 






$• 



140 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b.v. 845—888. 

Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage, 
And tempt not these, hut hasten to appease 
The incensed Father, and the incensed Son, 
While pardon may he found in time besought 

" So spake the tervent angel ; but his zeal 
None seconded, as out of season judged, 
Or singular and rash ; whereat rejoiced 
The apostate, and more haughty thus replied : 

" ' That we were formed then, sayestthou ? and the work 
Of secondary hands, by task transferred 
From Father to his Son? strange point and new ! 
Doctrine which we would know whence learned : who savr 
V^ien this creation was ? rememberest thou 
'.dry maldng, while the Maker gave thee being ? 
We know no time when we were not as now ; 
Know none before us, self-begot, self -raised 
By our own quickening power, when fatal course 
Had circled his full orb, the birth mature 
Of this oui native Heaven, ethereal sons. 
Our puissance is our own ; our own right hand 
Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try 
Who is our equal : then thou shalt behold 
Whether by supplication we intend 
Address, and to begirt the almighty throne 
Beseeching or besieging. This report, 
These tidings carry to the anointed King; 
And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight.' 

" He said, and as the sound of waters deep, 
Hoarse murmur echoed to his words applause 
Through the infinite host ; nor less for that 
The flaming seraph fearless, though alone, 
Encompassed round with foes, thus answered bold : 

" ' O alienate from God, O spirit accursed, 
Forsaken of all good ! I see thy fall 
Determined, and thy hapless crew involved 
In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread 
Both of thy crime and punishment : henceforth 
No more be troubled how to quit the yoke 
Of God's Messiah; those indidgent laws 
Wil] not be now vouchsafed ; other decrees 
Against thee are gone forth without recall ; 
That golden sceptre, which thou didst reject, 
Is now an iron rod to bruise and break 
Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise ; 



b.v. 889-907. PARADISE LOST. 141 

Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly 
These wicked tents devoted, lest - the wrath 
Impendent, raging into sudden flame, 
Distinguish not; for soon expect to feel 
His thunder on thy head, devouring fire 
Then who created thee lamenting learn, 
When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know.* 
" So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found 
Among the faithless, faithful only he ; 
Among innumerable false, unmoved, 
Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, 
His loyalty he kept, his love, ins zeal ; 
Nor number, nor example, with him wrought 
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, 
Though single .From amidst them forth he passed, 
Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustained 
Superior, nor of violence feared aught; 
And with retorted scorn his back he turned 
On th>se proud towers to swift destruction doomed 

1 i.e.lbut I fl) lest. 



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>ih 



142 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vi ?-xo. 



BOOK VL 



Tn2 A.R31TXCNT. 

Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were sent forth 
to battle against Satan and his angels. The first fight described . 
Satan and his powers retire under night: he calls a council, 
invents devilish engines, which, in the second day's fight, put 
Michael and his angels to some disorder; but they at length, 
pulling up mountains, overwhelmed both the force and machines of 
Satan : yet the tumult not so ending, God on the third day sends 
Messiah his Son, for whom he had reserved the glory of that vic- 
tory: he, in the power of bis Father, coming to the place, and 
causing all his legions to stand still on either side, with his chariot 
and thunder driving into the midst of his enemies, pursues them, 
unable to resist, towards the wall of Heaven ; which opening, they 
leap down with horror and confusion into the place of punishment 
prepared for them in the deep : Messiah returns with triumph to 
his Father. 

" All night the dreadless angel, unpursued, 

Through Heaven's wide champain held his way ; till morn, 

Waked hy the circling hours, 1 with rosy hand 

Unharred the gates of light. There is a cave 

Within the montit of God, fast by his throne, 

Where light and darkness in perpetual round 

Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through Heavea 

Grateful vicissitudes like day and night; 

Light issues forth, and at the other door 

Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour 

Homer, II. v. : — 
" Heaven's golden gates, kept by the winged hours • 

Commissioned in alternate watch they stand, 

The sun's bright portals and the skies command. 

Involve in clouds the eternal gates of day, 

Or the dark barrier roll with ease away." Pozw, 



4 



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*&■ 



^ 



b.vi. 11-45. PARADISE LOST. 143 

To veil the heaven, though darkness there might well 
Seem twilight here ; and now went forth the morn, 
Such as in highest Heaven, arrayed in gold 
Empyreal ; from before her vanished night, 
Shot through with orient beams ; when all the plain, 
Covered with thick embattled squadrons bright, 
Chariots and flaming arms, and fiery steeds, 
Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view : 
War he perceived, war in product, 1 and found 
Already known what he for news had thought 
To have reported : gladly then he mixed 
Among those friendly powers, whom him received 
With joy and acclamations loud, that one, 
That of so many myriads fallen, yet one 
Returned not lost. On to the sacred hill 
They led him high applauded, and present 
Before the seat supreme ; from whence a voice, 
From midst a golden cloud thus mild was heard : 

" ' Servant of God, well done ! well hast thou fought 
The better fight, who single hast maintained 
Against revolted multitudes the cause 
Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms; 
And for the testimony of truth hast borne 
Universal reproach, far worse to bear 
Than violence ; for this was all thy care, 
To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds 
Judged thee perverse : the easier conquest now 
Remains thee, aided by this host of friends, 
Back on thy foes more glorious to return 
Than scorned thou didst depart ; and to subdue 
By force, who reason for their law refuse ; 
Right reason for their law, and for their King 
Messiah, who by right of merit reigns. 
Go, Michael, 2 of celestial armies prince, 
And thou in military prowess next, 

1 In procinctu, i. e. girt, ready for action. 

2 As this battle of the angels is founded principally on Eev. xii 
7, 8, Michael is rightly made by Milton the leader of the heavenlj 
armies, and the name in Hebrew signifies the " power of God." But 
it may be censured perhaps as a piece of wrong conduct in the poem, 
that the commission here given is not executed ; they are ordered to 
jj drive" the rebel angels " out from God and bliss," but this is 
effected at last by the Messiah alone. Some reasons for it are 
assigned in the speech of God, rer. 680, and in that of the Messiah 
ver. 801, in this book — V^****- 



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& 



144 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vx. 4&-*o, 



Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons 
Invincible, lead forth my armed saints 
By thousands and by millions ranged for fight 
Equal in number to that godless crew 
.Rebellious ; them with fire and hostile arms 
.Fearless assault, and to the brow of Heaven 
Piusui ag, drive them out from God and bliss 
Into their place of punishment, the gulf 
Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide 
His fiery chaos 1 to receive their fall.' 

" So spake the sovran voice, and clouds began 
To darken all the hill, 2 and smoke to roll 
In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign 
Of wrath awaked ; nor with less dread the loud 
Ethereal trumpet from on high 'gan blow : 
At which command the powers militant, 
That stood for Heaven, in mighty quadrate joined 
Of union irresistible, moved on 
In silence their bright legions, to the sound 
Of instrumentol harmony, that breathed 
Heroic ardour to adventurous deeds 
Under their godlike leaders, in the cause 
Of God and his Messiah. On they move 
Indissolubly firm ; nor obvious hill, 
Nor straitening vale, nor wool, nor stream, divides 
Their perfect ranks; for high above the ground 3 
Their march was, and the passive air upbore 
Their nimble tread : as when the total kind 
Of birds, in orderly array on wing, 
Came summoned over Eden to receive 
Their names of thee ; so over many a tract 
Of Heaven they inarched, and many a province ^ride 
Tenfold the length of this terrene : at last, 
Ear in the horizon to the north appeared 
From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretched 

1 " Chaos" may mean any place of confusion; but if we take it 
strictly, Tartarus, or Hell, was built in Chaos (ii. 1,002), and there- 
fore that part of it, being stored with fire, may not improperly be 
called " a fiery chaos." — Newton. 

2 Cf. Exod. six. 16, sqq. 

3 Our author attributes the same ?dnd of motion to the angels as 
the ancients did to their gods ; which was gliding through the ail 
without ever touching the ground with their feet, or as Milt m else- 
where elegantly expresses it (b. viii. 302), " smooth-sliding withoi/ 
step." — Newton* 



<k 4* 

b.vi.Si-iis. PARADISE LOST. 145 

In battailous aspect, and nearer view 

Bristled with upright beams innumerabk 

Of rigid spears, and helmets thronged, and shwldii 

Various, with boastful argument portrayed, 

The banded powers of Satan hasting on 

With furious expedition; for they weened 

That self-same day by fight, or by surprise, 

To win the mount of God, and on Ms throne 

To set the envier of Ms state, the proud 

Aspirer ; but then thoughts proved fond and vain 

In the midway : though strange to us it seemed 

At first, that angel should with angel war, 

And in fierce hosting 1 meet, who wont to meet 

So oft in festivals of joy and love 

Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire, 

Hymnmg the eternal Father. But the shout 

Of battle now began, and rushing sound 

Of onset, ended soon each milder thought 

High in the midst, exalted as a god, 

The apostate in Ms sun-bright chariot sat, 

Idol 2 of majesty divine, enclosed 

With flaming cherubim and golden slnelds , 

Then lighted from his gorgeous throne ; for now, 

'Twixt host and host, but narrow space was left, 

A dreadful interval, and front to front 

Presented stood in terrible array 

Of hideous length : before the cloudy van, 

On the rough edge 3 of battle ere it joined, 

Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced, 

Came towering, armed in adamant and gold; 

Abdiel that sight endured not, where he stood 

Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, 

And thus Ms own undaunted heart explores :* 

" ' Heaven ! that such resemblance of the Highest 
Should yet remain, where faith and realty 6 

1 This word " hosting," seems to have been first coined by om 
author. It is a very expressive word, and plainly formed from the 
substantive host. And if ever it is right to make new words 4 it is 
when the occasion is so new and extraordinary. — Newton. 

2 i. e. resemblance, but in a bad sense. 3 See. i. 276. 
4 Hom<jr, II. xxii.: — 



" He stood, and questioned thus his mighty mind. 1 * 
8 Loyalty. See Pearce. 



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146 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vi. 116-159 

Remain not ! wherefore should not strength and might 

There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove 

Where boldest, though to sight unconquerable ? 

His puissance, trusting in the Almighty's aid, 

I mean to try, whose reason I have tried 

Unsound and false ; nor is it aught but just 

That he who in debate of truth hath won, 

Should win in arms, in both disputes alike 

Victor ; though brutish that contest and foul, 

When reason hath to deal with force, yet so 

Most reason is that reason overcome.' 

"So pondering, and from his armed peers 
Forth stepping opposite, half-way he met 
His daring foe, at this prevention more 
Incensed, and thus securely him defied : 

" ' Proud ! art thou met ? thy hope was to have roached 
The height of thy aspiring unopposed, 
The throne of God unguarded, and his side 
Abandoned at the terror of thy j)ower 
Or potent tongue : fool ! not to think how vain 
Against the Omnipotent to rise in arms ; 
Who out of smallest things could without end 
Have raised incessant armies to defeat 
Thy folly ; or, with solitary hand, 
Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow 
Unaided could have finished thee, and whelmed 
Thy legions under darkness : but thou seest 
All are not of thy train ; there be who faith 
Prefer, and piety to God, though then 
To thee not visible, when I alone 
Seemed in thy world erroneous to dissent 
From all : my sect thou seest ; now learn too late 
How few sometimes, may know, when thousands en. 

" Whom the grand foe, with scornful eye askance, 
Thus answered : ' 111 for thee, but in wished hour 
Of my revenge, first sought for, thou return'st 
From flight, seditious angel ! to receive 
Thy merited reward, the first assay 
Of this right hand provoked, since first that tongue, 
Inspired with contradiction, durst oppose 
A third part of the gods, in synod met 
Their deities to assert ; who, while they feel 
Vigour divine within them, can allow 
Omnipotence to none But well thou com'st 



"T^ 



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4*4 



b. vi. 160-203. PARADISE LOST. 147 

Before thy fellows, ambitious to win 

From me some plume, that thy success may sho-ff 

Destruction to the rest : this pause between 

(Unanswered lest thou boast) to let thee know, 

At Inst I thought that liberty and Heaven 

To heavenly souls had been all one ; but now 

I see that most through sloth Lad rather serve, 

Ministering spirits, trained up in feast and song, 

Such hast thou armed, the minstrelsy of Heaven, 

Servility with freedom to contend, 

As both their deeds compared this day shall prove,' 

" To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern replied : 
' Apostate ! still thou err'st, nor end wilt find 
Of erring, from the path of truth remote : 
Unjustly thou deprav'st it with the name 
Of servitude, to serve whom God ordains, 
Or nature ; God and nature bid the same, 
When he who rules is worthiest, and excels 
Them whom he governs. This is servitude, 
To serve the unwise, or him who hath rebelled 
Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee, 
Thyself not free, but to thyself enthralled ; 
Yet lewdly dar'st our ministering upbraid. 
Reign thou in Hell thy kingdom ; let me serve 
In Heaven God ever blest, and his divine 
Behests obey, worthiest to be obeyed ; 
Yet chains in Hell, not realms, expect: meanwhile 
From me returned, as erst thou saidst, from flight, 
This greeting on thy impious crest receive ' 

" So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high, 
Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell 
On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight, 
Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield. 
Such ruin intercept ? ten paces huge 
He back recoiled ; the tenth on bended knee 
His massy spear unstayed ; as if on earth 
Winds under ground, or waters forcing way 
Sidelong, had pushed a mountain from his seat, 
Half sunk with all his pines. Amazement seized 
The rebel thrones, but greater rage to see 
Thus foiled then mightiest ; ours joy filled, and shoutj 
Presage of victory, and fierce desire 
Of battle : whereat Michael bid sound 
The archangel trumpet; through the vast of Heaven 

L 
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.A* 



4* 



148 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vi. 204-24? 

It sounded, and the faithful armies rung 
Hosanna to the Highest ; nor stood at gaze 
The adverse legions; nor less hideous joined 
The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose, 
And clamour such as heard in Heaven till now 
Was never; arms on armour clashing brayed 
Horrible discord, and the madding wheels 
Of brazen chariots raged ; dire was the nois# 
Of conflict ; overhead the dismal hiss 
Of fiery darts 1 in flaming volleys flew, 
And flying vaulted either host with fire 
So under fiery cope together rushed 
Both battles main, with ruinous assault 
And inextinguishable rage. All Heaven 
Resounded, and had earth been then, all earth 
Had to her centre shook. What wonder, when 
Millions of fierce encountering angels fought 
On either side, the least of whom could wield 
These elements, and arm him with the force 
Of all their regions ? How much more of powcr t 
Army against army numberless to raise 
Dreadful combustion waning, and disturb, 
Though not destroy, their happy native seat ; 
Had not the eternal King omnipotent, 
From his strong hold of Heaven, high over-ruled 
And limited their might; though numbered such 
As each divided legion might have seemed 
A numerous host ; in strength each armed hand 
A legion ; led in fight, yet leader seemed 
Each warrior, single as in chief, expert 
When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway 
Of battle, open when, and when to close 
The ridges 5 " of grim war : no thought of flight ; 
None of retreat ; no unbecoming deed 
That argued fear; each on himself relied, 
As only in his arm the moment lay 
Of victory. Deeds of eternal fame 
Were done, but infinite ; for wide was spread 
That war and various ; sometimes on firm ground 
1 standing fight, then soaring on main wing 
Tormented all the air ; all air eoemM then 
Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale . 

1 t. e. the hissing darts flew. 

2 Banks, a metaphor taken from a ploughed field 



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b. vi. 246-281. PARADISE LOST. 149 

The battle hung ; * till Satan, who that day 
Prodigious power had shown, and met in arras 
No equal, ranging through the dire attack 
Of fighting seraphim confused, at length 
Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and felled 
Squadrons at once ; with huge two-handed sway 3 
Brandished aloft, the horrid edge came down 
Wide wasting : such destruction to withstand 
He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb 
Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield, 
A vast circumference. At his approach 
The great archangel from his warlike toil 
Surceased, and glad, as hoping here to end 
Intestine war in Heaven, the arch foe subdued, 
Or captive dragged in chains, with hostile frowa 
And visage all inflamed, first thus began : 

" 'Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt, 
Unnamed in Heaven, now plenteous, as thou sesst 
These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all, 
Though heaviest by just measure on thyself 
And thy adherents : how hast thou disturbed 
Heaven's blessed peace, and into nature brought 
Misery, uncreated till the crime 
Of thy rebellion ! how hast thou instilled 
Thy malice into thousands, once upright 
And faithful, now proved false ! But think not here 
To trouble holy rest; Heaven casts thee out 
From all her confines. Heaven, the seat of bliss, 
Brooks not the works of violence and war. 
Hence, then, and evil go with thee along, 
Thy offspring, to the place of evil, Hell, 
Thou and thy wicked crew; there mingle broils, 
Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, 
Or some more sudden vengeance, winged from Go<\. 
Precipitate thee with augmented pain.' 

" So spake the prince of angels ; to whom thus 

* Homer, II. xii. : — 

" As when two scales are charged with doubtful loads, 
So stood the war, till Hector's matchless might 
With fates prevailing turned the scale of fight." Pop6. 

* It shows how entirely the ideas of chivalry and romance had 
possessed "'Itfin to wake Michael fight with a two-handed word*— 
Waiburfo 



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<v 



150 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vi. 283 \iy 

The adversary \ x * Nor think thou with wind 

Of airy threats to awe, whom yet with deed i 

Thou canst not. Hast thou turned the least of these 

To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise 

Unvanquished, easier to transact with me 

That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats 

To chase me hence ? Err not 2 that so shall end 

The strife which thou call'st evil, hut we style 

The strife of glory ; which we mean to wir, 

Or turn this Heaven itself into the Hell 

Thou fablest ; here, however, to dwell free, 

If not to reign : meanwhile thy utmost force, 

And join him named Almighty to thy aid ; 

I fly not, hut have sought thee, far and nigh.' 

" They ended parle, and both addressed for fight 
Unspeakable ; for who, though with the tongue 
Of angels, can relate, or to what things 
Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift 
Human imagination to such height 
Of godlike power ? for likest gods they seemed, 
Stood they or moved, in statue, motion, arms, 
Fit to decide the empire of great Heaven. 
Now waved their fiery swords, and in the a^r 
Made horrid circles ; two broad suns their shields 
Blazed opposite, while expectation stood 
In horror : from each hand with speed retired, 
Where erst was thickest fight, the angelic throng, 
And left large field, unsafe within the wind 
Of suoh commotion : such as (to set forth 
Great things by small) if, nature's concord broke, 
Among the constellations war were sprung, 
Two planets, rushing from aspect malign 
Of fiercest opposition, in mid sky 
Should combat, and their jarring spheres conform*! 
Together both, with next to almighty arm, 
Uplifted imminent; one stroke they aimed 
That might determine, and not need repeat, 
As not of power at once ; nor odds appeared 
in might or swift prevention: but the sword 
Of Michael, from the armoury of God 
Was given him tempered so, that neither keen 
Nor solid might resist that edge : it met 

1 The enemy, par excellence, the <1<*V& 
3 Mistake not, think not. 



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b. vi. 324-355- PARADISE LOST. 151 

The sword of Satan with steep force to smite 

Descending, and in half cut sheer ; nor stayed, 

But with swift wheel reverse, deep entering, shared 

All his right side : then Satan first knew pain, 

And writhed him to and fro convolved; so sore 

The griding sword with discontinuous wound 

Passed through him : hut the ethereal substance closed, 

Not long divisible, and from the gash 

A stream of nectarous humour issuing flowed 

Sanguine, 1 such as celestial spirits may bleed, 

And all his "armour stained, erewhile so bright. 

Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run 

'By angels many and strong, who interposed 

Defence, while others bore him on their sliields 

Back to his chariot, where it stood retired 

From off the files of war ; there they him laid, 

Gnashing for anguish and despite and shame, 

To find himself not matchless, and his pride 

Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath 

His confidence to equal God in power. 

Yet soon he healed ; for spirits that live throughout 

Vital in every part, not as frail man 

In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, 

Cannot but by annihilating die ; 

Nor in then liquid texture mortal wound 

Receive, no more than can the fluid air 

All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, 

All intellect, all sense ; and, as they plea.se, 

They limb themselves, and colour, shape or size 

Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare. 2 

" Meanwhile in other parts, like deeds deserved 
Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought, 

1 i. e. a stream of nectarous humour converted into such liquor a« 
piurits bleed. The same idea is expressed by the Homeric ichor, 
<~.L 11. v.— 

" From tha clear vein a stream immortal flowed, 
Such stream as issues from a wounded god ; 
Pure emanation ! uncorrupted flood ; 
Unlike our gross, diseased, terrestrial blood; 
For not the bread of man their life sustains, 
Nor wine's inflaming juice supplies their veins." Pope. 

The whole passage, as indeed all Milton, abounds with Homeric 
"Stations. 
1 Thin, transparent. 



,~i\ 



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152 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. *. n, 33^-39* 

And with fierce ensigns pierced the deep array 

Of Moloch, furious king, who hirn defied, 

And at his chariot wheels to drag him bound 

Threatened, nor from the Holy One of Heaven 

Refrained Ms tongue blasphemous; but anon, 

Down cloven to the waist, with shattered arms 

And uncouth 1 pain fled bellowing. On each wing 

\Triel and Raphael Ms vaunting foe, 

fhough huge, and in a rock of diamond armed, 

Vanquished Adrarnelech, 2 and Asinadai, 3 

Two potent thrones, that to be less than gods 

Disdained, but meaner thoughts learned in their flights 

Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and mail 

Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy 

The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow 

Ariel 4 and Arioch, 5 and the violence 

Of Eamiel, 6 scorched and blasted, overthrew 

I might relate of thousands, and then* names 

Eternize here on earth; but those elect 

Angels, contented with then- fame in Heaven, 

Seek not the praise of men : the other sort, 

In might though wondrous and in acts of war, 

Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom 

Cancelled from Heaven and sacred memory, 

Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. 

For strength from truth divided, and from jdst, 

Illaudable, 7 nought merits but dispraise 

And ignominy, yet to glory aspires 

Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame : 

Therefore eternal silence be their doom. 

" And now, their mightiest quelled, the battle swei' red, 8 
With many an inroad gored ; deformed rout 
Entered, and foul disorder; all the ground 
With shivered armour strown, and on a heap 
Chariot and charioteer lay overturned, 

1 Uncouth, i. e. unusual. See Tyrwhitt's Gl. to Chaucer, p. 638 
ill. 4to ; cf. Spenser, F. Q. i. 11, 20 :■— 

" The piercing steel there wrought a wound full wide, 
That with the uncouth pain the monster loudly cried." 

i Mighty magnificent king, one of the idols of Sepharvahn, WOff 
shipped by them in Samaria, 2 Kings xvii. 31. 

3 Same as Asmodeus, Tobit iii. 8. 

4 Lions vf God. 5 A fierce lien. 

1 One that exalts himself aijaimt God, 7 Worthless. 8 Gave tt r ay. 

♦^ ^ 



T- 



b. vi. 391-431. PARADISE LOST. i$3 

And fiery foaming steeds ; what 1 stood, recoiled 

O'er-wearied, through the faint Satanic host 

Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surprised, 

Then first with fear surprised and sense of pain, 

Fled ignominious, to such evil brought 

By sin of disobedience, till that hour 

Not liable to fear, or flight, or pain. 

Far otherwise the inviolable saints, 

In cubic 3 phalanx firm advanced entire, 

Invulnerable, impenetrably armed ; 

Such high advantages then innocence 

Gave them above their foes, not to have sinned, 

Not to have disobeyed ; hi sight they stood 

Unwearied, tmobnoxious to be pained 

By wound, though from their place by violence moved 

" Now night her course began, and, over Heaven 
Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed. 
And silence on the odious din of war : 
Under her cloudy covert both retired, 
Victor and vanquished : on the foughten field 
Michael and his angels prevalent 
Encamping, placed in guard their watches round, 
Cherubic waving fires : on the other pa?* 
Satan with Ms rebellious disappeared, 
Far in the dark dislodged ; and, void of i\ st, 
His potentates to council called by night ; 
And in the midst thus undismayed began : 

" ' now in clanger tried, now known ill arms 
Not to be overpowered, companions dear, 
Found worthy not of liberty alone, 
Too mean pretence, but what we more affect, 
Honour, dominion, glory, and renown ; 
Who have sustained one day in doubtful fight 
(And if one day, why not eternal days ?) 
What Heaven's Lord had powcrftOst to send 
Against us from about his throne, and judged 
Sufficient to subdue us to his will, 
But proves not so : then fallible, it seems, 
Of future we may deem him, though till now 
Omniscient thought. True is, 8 less firmly armed, 
Some disadvantage we endured, and pain, 

1 Those ■who. 

2 This epithet muse be taken rather as der. ting the eompactne* 
than the form of the phalanx 3 True if is. 



n r 



4: 






:S4 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vi. 432-468. 



Till now not known, but, known, as soon contemned ; 

Since now we find this our empyreal form 

Incapable of mortal injury, 

Imperishable, and though pierced with wound, 

Soon closing, and by native vigour healed 

Of evil then so small as easy think 

The remedy ; perhaps more valid arms, 

Weapons more violent, when next we meet. 

May serve to better ub, and worse our foes, 

Or equal what between us made the odds, 

In nature none ; if other hidden cause 

Left them superior, while we can preserve 

Unhurt our minds and understanding sound, 

Due search and consultation will disclose.' 

" He sat : and in the assembly next upstood 
Nisroch, 1 of principalities the prime ; 
As one he stood escaped from cruel fight, 
Sore toiled, his riven arms to havoc hewn, 
And cloudy in aspect thus answering spake : 

" ' Deliverer from new lords, leader to free 
Knjoyment of our right as gods ; yet hard 
For gods, and too unequal work we find, 
Against unequal arms to fight in pain, 
Against unpained, impassive ; from which evil 
Ruin must needs ensue ; for what avails 
Valour or strength, though matchless, quelled with pain 
Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands 
Of mightiest? Sense of pleasure we may well 
Spare out of life, perhaps, and not repine, 
But live content, which is the calmest life : 
But pain is perfect misery, the worst 
Of evils, 2 and, excessive, overturns 
All patience. He who therefore can invent 
With what more forcible we may offend 
Our yet unwounded enemies, or arm 
Ourselves with like defence, to me 3 deserves 
No less than for deliverance what we owe.' 

3 Grsat eagle, an idol of the Ninevites, represented in their sculptures 
#ith a hawk's bead See Layard's Nineveh. 

2 Nisroch is made to talk agreeably to the sentiments of Iliero- 
nymus, and those philosophers who maintained that pain was the 
greatest of evils; there might be a possibility of living witbout plea- 
sure, but there was no living in pain. A notion suitable enough to 9 
ieity of the effeminate Assyrians. — Xtu,tQi*. a in iry opinion. 



4 i>* 



•<§« 



I 



b. vi. 469-507. PARADISE LOST. 155 

" Whereto, with look composed, Satan replied ; 
1 Not uninvented that, which thou aright 
Belie v'st so main to our success, I bring. 
Which of us who beholds the bright surface 
Of this ethereous mould whereon we stand, 
This continent of spacious Heaven, adorned 
With plant, fruit, flower ambrosial, gems and gold ; 
Whose eye so superficially surveys 
These things, as not to mind from whence they gvoit 
Deep under ground, materials dark and crude, 
Of epirituous and fiery spume, till touched 
With Heaven's ray, and tempered, they shoot forth 
So beauteous, opening to the ambient light? 
These, in their dark nativity, the deep l 
Shall yield us, pregnant with infernal flame ; 
Which into hollow engines 3 long and round 
Thick-rammed, at the other bore with touch of fire 
dilated and infuriate, shall send forth 
From far, with thundering noise, among our foes, 
Such implements of mischief, as shall dash 
To pieces, and o'erwhelm whatever stands 
Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarmed 
The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt. 
Nor long shall be our labour ; yet, ere dawn, 
Effect shall end our wish. Meanwhile revive ; 
Abandon fear; to strength and counsel joined 
Think nothing hard, much less to be despaired.' 

" He ended, and his words their drooping cheer 
Enlightened, and their languished hope revived. 
The invention all admired, and each, how he 
To be the inventor missed ; so easy it seemed 
Once found, which yet unfound most would have thoughv 
Impossible : yet haply of thy race 
In future days, if malice should abound, 
Some one intent on mischief, or inspired 
With devilish machination, might devise 
like instrument to plague the sons of men 
For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. 
Forthwith from council to the work they flew ; 

1 i. e. the space below the surface of the ground. 

2 Great guns, the first invention whereof is very properly ascribed 
jo the author of all evil. And Ariosto has described them in the 
game manner in his Orlando Furioso, cant. 9, st. 28, and attributes 
the invention to the devil. 



•*4h 



^ — ^ 

156 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vi. 508-539- 

None arguing stood ; innumerable hands 
Were ready ; in a moment up they tinned 
Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath 
The originals of nature in their crude 
Conception; sulphurous and nitrous foam 1 
They found, they mingled, and, with subtle art 
Concocted and adjusted, they reduced 
To blackest grain, and into store conveyed : 
Part hidden veins digged up (nor hath this earth 
Entrails unlike) of mineral and stone, 
Whereof to found then engines and their balls 
Of missive ruin ; part incentive reed 
Provide, pernicious 2 with one touch to firo. 
So all ere day-spring, under conscious night, 
Secret they finished, and in order set, 
With silent circumspection, unespied. 

" Now when fan morn orient in Heaven appeared, 
Up rose the victor angels, and to arms 
The matin trumpet sung : in arms they stood 
Of golden panoply, refulgent host, 
Soon banded ; others from the dawning Aills 
Looked round, and scouts each coast light-aimed scour, 
Each quarter, to descry the distant foe, 
Where lodged, or whither fled, or if for fight, 
In motion or in halt : him soon they met 
Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow 
But firm battalion ; back with speediest sail 
Zophiel, 3 of cherubim the swiftest wing, 
Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried : 

I" ' Arm, warriors, arm for fight ! the foe at hand, 
Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit 
This day ; fear not his flight ; so thick a cloud 

y Bentley observes that only two materials are here mentioned, 
and these without charcoal can never make gunpowder. This is 

I rue; but is it necessary that a poet should be as exact as a writer 

about arts and sciences ? If so, not only Milton but Spenser must be 
blamed, who has done the same thing as Milton has done ; for in his 
Faerie Queen, b. i. c. vii. s. 13, describing a cannon charged with 
gunpowder, he says — 

" With windy nitre and quick sulphur fraught," 

where it is observable that he takes no notice of charcoal, though 
gunpowder cannot be without it. — Pearce. 

2 Pemix, i. e. mischievously ready. 

3 The spy of God. 

npH — -Kih 



^ 



•4^ 



b. vi. 540-578. PARADISE LOST, '57 

He comes, and settled in his face I see 
Sad resolution and secure : let each 
His adamantine coat gird well, and each 
Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield, 
Borne even or high ; for tins day will pour down, 
/f I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower, 
But rattling storm of arrows barbed with lire/ 

" So warned he them, aware themselves, and soon 
In order, quit of all impediment, 
Instant without disturb they tooK alarm, 
And onward moved embattled : when, beholo, 
Not distant far, with heavy pace, the foe 
Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube 
Training his devilish enginery, impaled 
On every side with shadowing squadrons deep, 
To hide the fraud. At interview both stood 
Awhile ; but suddenly at head appeared 
Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud : 

" ' Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold ; 
That all may see who hate us, how we seek 
Peace and composure, and with open breast 
{Stand ready to receive them, if they like 
Our overture, and turn not back perverse j 
But that I doubt; however, witness Heaven, 
Heaven witness thou anon, while we discharge 1 
Freely our part ; ye who appointed stand, 
Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch 
What we propound, and loud, that all may hear/ 

"So scoffing, in ambiguous words, he scarce 
Had ended, when to right and left the front 
Divided, and to either flank retired : 
Which to our eyes discovered, new and strange, 
A triple mounted row of pillars laid 
On wheels (for like to pillars most they seemed, 
Or hollowed bodies made of oak or fir*, 
With branches lopped, in wood or mountain felled) 
Brass, iron, stony mould, 2 had not their mouths 
With hideous orifice gaped on us wide, 
Portending hollow 3 truce : at each behind 

1 Some of the pirns (if such they be) are as discreditable to Milton's 
taste as to poetry. I have ventured to italicise them, lest they should 
perish unperceived. 2 Substance, mass. 

3 Another vile pun, scarcely sufficient to tempt an angei into sw 
rile 8 habit. 



+&* 



*&*■ 



158 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vi. 579-617. 

A seraph stood, and in his hand a reed 

Stood waving, tipped with fire: while we, suspense, 

Collected stood within our thoughts amused, 

Not long ; for sudden all at once their reeds 

Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied 

With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, 

But soon obscured with smoke, all Heaven appeared, 

Erom those deep-throated engines 1 belched, whose roar 

Embowelled with outrageous noise the air, 

And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul 

Their devilish glut, chained thunderbolts and hail 

Of iron globes ; which, on the victor host 

Levelled, with such impetuous fury smote, 

That whom they hit, none on their feet might stand, 

Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell 

By thousands, angel on archangel rolled, 

The sooner for their arms : unarmed they might 

Have easily, as spirits, evaded swift 

By quick contraction or remove ; but now 

Foul dissipation followed, and forced rout ; 

Nor served it to relax their serried 2 files. 

What should they do ? if on they rushed, repulse 

"Repeated, and indecent overthrow 

Doubled, would render them yet more despised, 

And to their foes a laughter ; for in view 

Stood ranked of seraphim another row, 

In posture to displode their second tire 

Of thunder : back defeated to return 

They worse abhorred. Satan beheld their plight, 

And to his mates thus in derision wiJled : 

" ' friends, why come not on these victors proud? 
Erewhile they fierce were coming ; and when we, 
To entertain them fair with open front 
And breast (what could we more ?) propounded term* 
Of composition, straight they changed their minds, 
Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, 
As they would dance ; yet for a dance they seemed 
Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps 
For joy of offered peace : but I suppose, 

* So Shakespeare, in Othello, act iii. : — 

" And oh, you mortal engines, whose rude throats 
The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit.* 

Neman 

* Close, compact, from the Italian serrate. 



•f 



A 



vi. £18-658. PARADISE LOST. l& 

If our proposals once again were heard. 
We shouiu compel them to a quick result/ 

"To whom thus Belial, in like gamesome mood t 
' Leader, the terms we sent were terms of weight, 
Of hard contents, and full of force urged home; 
Such as we might perceive amused them all, 
And stumhled many ; who receives them right, 
Had need from head to foot well understand; 
Not understood, this gift they have besides, 
Piey show us when 6ur foes walk not upright' 

" So they among themselves, in pleasant vein, 
Stood scoffing, heightened in their thoughts beyond 
A J doubt of victory; eternal might 
r J o match with then inventions they presumed 
So easy, and of his thunder made a scorn, 
And all his host derided, while they stood 
Awhile in trouble : but they stood not long ; 
Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms 
Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose. 
Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power, 
Which God hath in his mighty angels placed) 
Their arms away they threw, and to the hills 
(For earth hath this variety from Heaven 
Of pleasure situate in hill and dale) 
Light as the lightning glimpse they ran, they flew, 
From then foundations loosening to and fro 
They plucked the seated hills with all their load, 
Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops 
Uplifting bore them in their hands : amaze, 
Be sure, and terror, seized the rebel host, 
When coming towards them so dread they saw 
The bottom of the mountains upward turned . 
Till on those cursed engines' triple row 
They saw them whelmed, and all their confidence 
Under the weight of mountains buried deep; 
Themselves invaded next, and on their heads 
Main promontories flung, which in the air 
Came shadowing, and oppressed whole legions armed : 
Their armour helped their harm, 1 crushed in and bruised 
Into their substance pent, which wrought them pain 
Implacable, and many a dolorous groan, 

1 Newton compares Spenser, F. Q. i. 2 27 — 

" That erst him good!y armed, new rnsst of all him harmed." 



4 



ih 



&. 



160 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vi. 659-702. 

Long struggling -underneath, ere they could wind 
Out of such prison, though spirits of purest light, 
Purest at first, now gross hy sinning grown 
The rest in imitation to like arms 
Betook them, and the neighouring hills uptore; 
So hills amid the air encountered hills 
Hurled to and fro with jaculation dire, 
That under ground they fought in dismal shade ; 
Infernal noise ! war seemed a civil game 
To this uproar; horrid confusion heaped 
Upon confusion rose : and now all Heaven 
Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread, 
Had not the Almighty Father, where he sits 
Shrined in his sanctuary of Heaven secure, 
Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen 
This tumult, and permitted all, advised : 
That his great purpose he might so fulfil, 
To honour his anointed Son avenged 
Upon his enemies, and to declare 
All power on him transferred : wheiice to his Son, 
The assessor of his throne, he thus "began : 
" ' Effulgence of my glory, Son heloved, 
Son in whose face invisihle is heheld 
Visibly, what hy deity I am, 
And in whose hand what by decree I do, 
Second Omnipotence,! two days are past, 
Two days, as we compute the days of Heaven, 
Since Michael and his powers went forth to tame 
These disobedient ; sore hath been their fight, 
As likeliest was, when two such foes met armed ; 
For to themselves I left them ; and thou knowest 
Equal in their creation they were formed, 
Save what sin hath impaired, which yet hath wroi:gLi 
Insensibly, for I suspend their doom ; 
Whence in perpetual fight they needs must lasl 
Endless, and no solution will be fouud : 
War wearied hath performed what war can do, 
And to disordered rage let loose the reins, 
With mountains as with weapons armed, which makes 
Wild work in Heaven, and dangerous to the main 
Two days are therefore past, the third is thine ; 
For thee I have ordained it, and thus far 
Have suffered, that the glory may be thine 
Of ending this gre^war, since none but thos 



♦* 



*&> 



b, vi. 703-746. PARADISE LOST. 161 

{Jan end it. Into thee such virtue and grace 
Immense I have transfused, that all may know 
In Heaven and Hell thy power above compare; 
And, this perverse commotion governed thus, 
To manifest thee worthiest to be Heir 
Of all things, to be Heir and to be King 
By sacred unction, thy deserved right. 
Go then, thou mightiest, in thy Father's might, 
Ascend my chariot, guide the rapid wheels 
That shake Heaven's basis, bring forth all my war s 
My bow and thunder, my almighty arms 
Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh; 
Pursue these sons of darkness, drive them out 
From all Heaven's bounds into the utter deep ; 
There let them leam, as likes them, to despise 
God and Messiah his anointed King.' 

" He said, and on his Son with rays direct 
Shone full ; he all his Father full expressed 
Ineffably into his face received ; 
And thus the filial Godhead answering spake : 

" ' Father, Supreme of heavenly thrones, 
First, highest, holiest, best! thou always seek'st 
To glorify thy Son, I always thee, 
As is most just ; this I my glory account, 
My exaltation, and my whole delight, 
That thou in me, well pleased, declar'st thy will 
Fulfilled, which to fulfil is all my bliss. 
Sceptre and power, thy giving, I assume, 
And gladlier shall resign, when in the end 
Thou shalt be all in all, and I in thee 
For ever, and in me all whom thou lov'st: 
But whom thou hat'st, I hate, and can put on 
Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on, 
Image of thee in all things, and shall soon, 
Armed with thy might, rid Heaven of these rebelled, 
To their prepared ill mansion driven down, 
To chains of darkness, and the undying worm. 
That from thy just obedience could revolt, 
Whom to obey is happiness entire. 
Then shall thy saints unmixed, and from the impur* 
Far separate, circling thy holy mount, 
Unfeigned hallelujahs to thee sing, 
Hymns of high praise, and I among them chief.' 

" So s*ud, he, o'er his sceptre bowing, rose 



^ 



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& 



1 62 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, a. vi. 747-785, 



From the right hand of glory where he sat ; 

And the third sacred morn "began to shine, [sou nd 

Dawning through Heaven: forth rushed with whirl wind 

The chariot of paternal Deity, 

Flashing thick names, wheel within wheel undrawn, 

Itself instinct with spirit, but convoyed 

By four cherubic shapes ; four faces each 

Had wondrous ; as with stars their bodies all 

And wings were Bet with eyes, with eyes the wheels 

Of beryl, and careering fires between ; 

Over their heads a crystal firmament, 

Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 

A.mber, and colours of the 'showery arch. 1 

He, in celestial panoply 2 all armed 

Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought, 

Ascended ; at his right hand victory 

Sat eagle-winged ; beside Mm hung his bow 

And quiver with three-bolted thunder stored, 

And from about him fierce effusion rolled 

Of smoke, and bickering flame, and sparkles dire : 

Attended with ten thousand thousand saints, 8 

He onward came ; far off his coming shone ; 

And twenty thousand (I their number heard) 

Chariots of God, half on each hand, were seen : 

He on the wings of cherub rode sublime 

On the crystalline sky, in sapphire throned, 

Illustrious far and wide, but by his own 

First seen; them unexpected joy surprised, 

When the great ensign of Messiah blazed 

Aloft by angels borne, his sign in Heaven , 

Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced 

His army, circumfused on either wing, 

Under their Head embodied all in one. 

Before him power divine his way prepared; 

At his command the uprooted hills retired 

Each to his place; they heard his voice, and went 

Obsequious; Heaven his wonted face renewed. 

And with fresh flowerets hill and valley smiled , 

This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured, 

And to rebellious fight rallied their powers 

Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. 

1 Cf. Ezek. i. 4; Is. kvi. 15; Ezek. i., 6, 16, 19, 30; i. 6; Jt Li 
i. 16, 13 ; i. 22, 26, 27, 18,— Newton. 
a'Cf. Eph.vi.ll. » Judo U. 



**r 



b. vi. 788-83* PARADISE LOST. 1C3 

In heavenly spirits could such perverseness dwell ? 

But to convince the proud what signs avail, 

Or wonders move the obdurate to relent? 

They, hardened more by what might most reclaim, 

Grieving to see his glory, ai the sight 

Took envy ; and, aspiring to his height. 

Stood re-embattled fierce, by force or fraud 

Weening to prosper, and at length prevail 

Against God and Messiah, or to fall 

In universal ruin last ; and now 

To final battle drew, disdaining flight, 

Or faint retreat; when the great Son of God 

To all his host on either hand thus spake : 

" ' Stand still m bright array, ye saints ; here etaiR 
Ye angels aimed; this day from battle rest. 
Faithful hath been your warfare, and of God 
Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause ; 
And as ye have received, so have ye dono 
Jnv : neibly : but of this cursed crew 
The punishment to other hand belongs; 
Vengeance is his, 1 or whose he sole appointG . 
Number to this day's work is not ordained, 
Nor multitude ; staD d only and behold 
God's indignation on these godless poured 
By me ; not you, but me, they have despised, 
Yet envied ; against me is all then rage, 
Because the Father, to whom in Heaven supreme 
Kingdom, and power, and glory, appertains, 
Hath honoured me according to his will. 
Therefore to me their doom he hath assigned, 
That they may have their wish, to try with me 
In battle which the stronger proves, they all, 
Or I alone against them, since by strength 
They measure all, of other excellence 
Not emulous, nor care who them excels; 
Nor other strife with them do I vouchsafe.' 

" So spate the Son, and into terror changed 
His countenance too severe to be beheld. 
And full of wiath bent on his enemies. 
At once the four spread out then starry wings 
With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs 
Of his fierce chariot rolled, as with the sound 
Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host 
1 Peut. xsxii. 35 ; Rom. kit., 9k 

M 

^ ~ ~ " — — >( P* 



134 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. ». u. 8 3 £-8 7 n. 

He on his impious foes right onward drove, 
Gloomy as night; 1 under his burning wheels 
The stedfast empyrean shook throughout, 
All but the throne itself of God. Full soon 
Among them he arrived, in his right hand 
grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent 
before him, such as in their souls infixed 
Plagues ; they, astonished, all resistance lost. 
All courage ; down their idle weapons dropped ; 
0er shields, ate helms, and helmed heads, he rc&r 
Of thrones and mighty seraphim prostrate, 
That wished the mountains 2 now might be again 
Thrown on them as a shelter from his ire. 
Nor less on either side tempestuous fell 
His arrows, from the fourfold-visaged four 
Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheeis 
Distinct alike with multitude of eyes ; 
One spirit in them ruled, and every eye 
Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire 
Among the accursed, that withered all their strength. 
And of their wonted vigour left them drained, 
Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen. 
Yet half his strength he put not forth, hut checked 
His thunder in mid volley ; for he meant 
Not to destroy, hut root them out of Heaven: 
The overthrown he raised, and, as a herd 
Of goats or timorous flock together thronged, 
Drove them before him thunderstruck, pursued 
With terrors and with furies to the bounds 
And crystal wall of Heaven ; which, opening wide, 
Rolled inward, and a spacious gap disclosed 
Into the wasteful deep ; the monstrous sigM 
Stmclfrthem with horror backward, but far w~«rse 
Urged them behind ; headlong themselves the} thre** 
Down from the verge of Heaven ; eternal wrath 
"Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. 

" Hell heard the unsufFerable noise ; Hell saw 
Heaven ruining 3 from Heaven, and would have fled 
Affrighted ; but strict fate had cast too deep 
t[er dark foundations, and too fast had bound 

> Homer, II. i. — 

"Breathing revenge, a sudden night be spread, 
And gloomy darkness rolled about his head." — Pope. 
'* Kcv. vi. 16. 3 I e. rushing, fulling down into destruction 



-o 



fa_ _^ 

3. vii. a 7 i- 9 i a . PARADISE LOST, 165 

£Tine days they fell ; confounded Chaos roared, 
And felt tenfold confusion in their fall 
Through his wild anarchy, so huge a rout 
Encumbered him with ruin : Hell at last 
Fawning received them whole, and on them elosed 
Hell, their fit habitation, fraught with fire 
Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. 
Disburdened Heaven rejoiced, 1 and soon repaired 
Her mural breach, returning whence it rolled. 
Sole victor, from the expulsion of his foes, 
Messiah his triumphal chariot turned : 
To meet him all his saints, who silent stood 
Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts, 
With jubilee advanced; and as they went, 
Shaded with branching palm, each order bright 
Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, 
Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given, 
Worthiest to reign : he celebrated rode 
Triumphant through mid Heaven, into the courts 
And temple of his mighty Father throned 
On high ; who into glory him received, 
Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss. 

" Thus measuring things in Heaven by things on earth, 
At thy request, and that thou mayst beware 
By what is past, to thee I have revealed 
What might have else to human race been hid ; 
The discord which befell, and war in Heaven 
Among the angelic powers, and the deep fall 
Of those too high aspiring, who rebelled 
With Satan ; he who envies now thy state, 
Who now is plotting how he may seduce 
Thee also from obedience, that with him 
Bereaved of happiness thou mayst partake 
His punishment, eternal misery ; 
Which would be all his solace and revenge, 
As a despite clone against the most High, 
Thee once to gain companion of his woe. 
But listen not to his temptations ; warn 
Thy weaker ; let it profit thee to have heard 
By terrible example the reward 
Of disobedience ; firm they might have stood* 
Yet fell ; remember, and fear to transgress." 

1 So Tasso, Gier. Lib. cant. 9, st. 66 : — 
m The earth, delivered from so foul annoy 
Becalled her oeauty, and resumed her joy." Fairfax. — Tt.gtei, 



& 







Mp*. 



ttt MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS k.vh.x-i 9 . 



BOOK VR 



THE AEGUMENT. 

ftephael at the reqiest of Adam, relates how and wherefore this 
world was first created ; that God, after the expelling of Satan and 
his angels out of Heaven, declared his pleasure to create another 
world, and other creatures to dwell therein; sends his Son with 
glory and attendance of angels to perform the work of creation in 
six days ; the angels celebrate with hymns the performance thereof, 
and his reascension into Heaven. 

Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name 
If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine 
Following, above the Olympian hill I soar, 
Above the flight of Pegasean wing. 
The meaning, not the name, I call ; for thou 
Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top 
Of old Olympus dwell'st ; but, heavenly born, 
Before the hills 1 appeared, or fountain flowed, 
Thou 2 with eternal Wisdom didst converse, 
Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play 
Tn presence of the almighty Father, pleased 
With thy celestial song, tjp led by thee 
Jnto the Heaven of Heavens I have presumed, 
An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air, 
Thy tempering : with like safety guided down, 
Retiun me to my native element ; 
Lest from this flying steed unreined (as onre 
Belleiophon, though from a lower clime) 
Dismounted, on the Aleian field 1 fall, 3 

' Frov. via, 24-30. 2 Bentley proposes " thee." 

i] Bellerophon was a beautiful and valiant youth, son of Glaticn^ 
,w!ki refusing the amorous applications of Antea, wife of Praetus, 
u^ ui Argos * as by he* false suggestions, like those of Joseph's 



M 



A 



b. vir. 20-57. PARADISE LOST. 167 

Erroneous tlieie to wander, and forlorn, 
Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound 
Within the visible diurnal sphere ; 
Standing on earth, not rapt above the pole, 
More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged 
To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days, 
On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues ; 
In darkness, and with dangers compassed round, 
And solitude ; yet not alone, while thou 
Visit' st my slumbers nightly, or when morn 
Purples the east : still govern thou my song, 
Urania, and fit audience find, though few. 
But drive far off the barbarous dissonance 
Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race 
Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian bard 
In Ilhodope, where woods and rocks had ears 
To rapture, till the savage clamour drowned 
Both harp and voice ; nor could the Muse defend 
Her son. So fail not thou, who thee implores : 
For thou art heavenly, she an empty dream. 
Say, goddess, what ensued when Raphael, 
The affable archangel, had forewarned 
Adam by dire example to beware 
Apostacy, by what befell in Heaven 
To those apostates, lest the like befall 
In Paradise to Adam or his race, 
Charged not to touch the interdicted tree. 
If they transgress, and slight that sole command. 
So easily obeyed amid the choice 
Of all tastes else to please their appetite, 
Though wandering. He, with his consorted Eve, 
The story heard attentive, and was filled 
With admiration and deep muse, to hear 
Of things so high and strange, things to their thought 
So unimaginable as hate in Heaven, 
And war so near the peace of God in bUss, 
With such confusion ; but the evil, soon 
Driven back, redounded as a flood on those 

mistress to her husband, sent into Lycia with letters desiring hi& 
destruction, where he was put on several enterprises full of hazard, 
; n which, however, he came off conqueror; but, attempting vain- 
gloriously to mount up to Heaven on the winged horse Pegasus, he 
fell and wandered in the Aleian plains till he died. — Hume and 
Richardson. 



168 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. b. vn. 58-100. 

From whom it spiung, impossible to mix 
With, blessedness. Whence Adam soon repealed 
The doubts that in his heart arose : and now- 
Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know 
What nearer might concern him ; how this world 
Of Heaven and earth conspicuous first began ; 
When, and whereof created ; for what cause ; 
What within Eden, or without, was done 
Before his memory ; as one whose drouth 1 
Yet scarce allayed, still eyes the current stream, 
Whose liquid murmur heard, new thirst excites, 
Proceeded thus to ask his heavenly guest : 

' : Great things, and full of wonder in our ears, 
Far differing from this world, thou hast revealed, 
Divine interpreter, by favour sent 
Down from the empyrean to forewarn 
Us timely of what might else have been our loss, 
Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach \ 
For which to the infinitely Good we owe 
Immortal thanks, and his admonishment 
Receive with solemn purpose to observe 
Immutably his sovereign will, the end 
Of what we are. But since thou hast vouchsafed 
9-ently for our instruction to impart 
Things above earthly thought, which yet concerned 
Our knowing, as to highest wisdom seemed, 
Deign to descend now lower, and relate 
What may no less, perhaps, avail us known, 
How first began this Heaven which we behold 
Distant so high, with moving fires adorned 
Innumerable, and this which yields or fills 
All space, the ambient air wide interfused, 
Embracing round this florid earth ; what cause 
Moved the Creator, in his holy rest 
Through all eternity, so late to build 
In Chaos; and, the work begun, how soon 
Absolved; if unforbid thou mayst unfold 
iVhat we, not to explore the secrets ask 
Of his eternal empire, but the more 
To magnify his works, the more we know. 
And the great light of day yet wants to run 
Much of his race though steep; suspense in Heiwuu. 
Meld by thy voice, thy potent voice, he hears, 
1 i^ra st. 

^ — ^ 



*&-- 



■139- 



PARADISE LOST. 



169 



♦<k 



And longer will delay to hear thee tell 
His generation, and the rising birth 
Of nature from the unapparent deep : 
Or if the star of evening and the moon 
Haste to thy audience, night with her will bring 
Silence, and sleep listening to thee will watch, 
Or we can bid his absence, till thy song 
End, and dismiss thee ere the moaning shine," 

Thus Adam his illustrious guest besought; 
And thus the godlike angel answered mild : 
" This also thy request, with caution asked, 
Obtain : though to recount almighty works 
What words or tongue of seraph can suffice, 
Or heart of man suffice to comprehend ? 
Yet what thou canst attain, which best may serve 
To glorify the Maker, and infer 
Thee also happier, shall not be withheld 
Thy hearing : such commission from above 

1 have received, to answer thy desire 

Of knowledge within bounds ; beyond, abstain 
To ask, nor let thine own inventions l hope 
Things not revealed, which the invisible King, 
Only omniscient, hath suppressed in night, 
To none communicable in earth or Heaven : 
Enough is left besides to search and know. 
But knowledge is as food, and needs no less 
Her temperance over appetite, to know 
In measure what the mind may well contain , 
Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns 
Wisdom to folly, as nourishment to wind. 

" Know, then, that after Lucifer from Heaven 
(So call him, brighter once amidst the host 
Of angels, than that star the stars among) 
Fell with his flaming legions through the deep 
Into his place, 2 and the great Son returned 
Victorious with his saints, the omnipotent 
Eternal Father from his throne beheld 
Their multitude, and to his Son thus spake : 

* ' At least 1 our envious foe hath failed, who though * 

5 This word is here used to denote that unlawful curiosity by which 
men seek to know more than is given to them. Newton comparer. 
this scriptural use of the term in Psalm cvi. 29, 38. 

2 As Judas is said to go " to his own plage," Acts i, 25. 

3 " At last " is proposed by Thyer. 



^ 



170 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, &. vn. 140-173. 

Ail like himself jcebeliious, by whose aid 

This inaccessible high strength, the sea* 

Of Deity supreme, us dispossessed, 

He trusted to have seized, and into fraud 

Drew many, whom their place knows here no more ; * 

Yet far the greater part have kept, I see, 

Their station ; Heaven yet populous retains 

Number sufficient to possess her realms 

Though wide, and this high temple to frequent 

With ministeries due and solemn rites : 

But lest his heart exalt him in the harm 

Already done, to have dispeopled Heaven, 

My damage fondly deemed, I can repair 

That detriment, if such it be to lose 

Self-lost, and in a moment will create 

Another world, out of one man a race 

Oi men innumerable, there to dwell, 

Not here, till by degrees of merit raised 

They open to themselves at length the way 

Up hither, under long obedience tiled, 

And earth be changed to Heaven, and Heaven to earth f f 

One kingdom, joy and union without end. 

Meanwhile inhabit lax, 3 ye powers of Heaven; 

And thou my Word, begotten Son, by thee 

This I perform ; speak thou, and be it done ': 

My overshadowing Spirit and might with thee 

1 send along ; ride forth, and bid the deep 
Within appointed bounds be Heaven and earth 
Boundless the deep, 4 because I dm who fill 
Infinitude, nor vacuous the space. 

Though I, uncircumscribed myself, retire, 
And put not forth my goodness, which is free 
To act or not, necessity and chance 
Approach not me, and what I will is fale.' 

1 ] A scripture phrase. — See Job vii. 10, Vs. ciii. 18. 

2 Milton's meaning seems to have been this : that earth would be 
so happy in being inhabited by obedient creatures, that it would be 
changed to, i. e. resemble, Heaven ; and Heaven, by receiving those 
creatures, would in this resemble earth, that it would be stocked with 
men for its inhabitants. — Pearce. 3 Dwell more at large. 

4 " Boundless the deep," &c. The sense is, the deep is boundless ; 
but the space contained in it is not vacuous and empty, because there 
is an infinitude, and I fill it. Though I, who am myself uncirenm- 
pcribed, set bounds to my goodness, and do not exert it everywhere, 
yet neither necessity nor chance influence my actions, &c. — Pearce. 



•I 

*gx, 1 — m — , _ : »A* 



v:i. 174-217. PARADISE LOST. 171 

' ;< So spake the Almighty, and to what he epako 
His Word, fie filial Godhead, gave effect. 
Immediate are the acts of God, more swift 
Than time or motion, but to human ears 
Cannot without process of speech be told, 
So told as earthly notion can receive. 
Great triumph and rejoicing was in Heaven, 
When such was heard declared the Almighty's will ; 
Glory they sung to the most High, good will 
To future men, and in their dwellings peace; 
Glory to him, whose just avenging ire 
Had driven out the ungodly from his sight, 
And the habitations of the just ; to him 
Glory and praise, whose wisdom had ordained 
Good out of evil to create, instead 
Of spirits malign a better race to bring 
Into their vacant room, and thence diffuse 
His good to worlds and ages infinite. 

" So sang the hierarchies : meanwhile the Son 
On his great expedition now appeared, 
Girt with omnipotence, with radiance crowned 
Of majesty divine ; sapience and love 
Immense, and all his Father in him shone 
About his chariot numberless were poured 
Cherub and seraph, potentates and tin-ones, 
And virtues, winged spirits, and chariots winged 
From the armoury of God, where stand of old 
Myriads between two brazen mountains lodged 
Against a solemn day, harnessed at hand, 
Celestial equipage; and now came forth 
Spontaneous, for within them spirit lived, 
Attendant on their Lord ; Heaven opened wide 
Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound 
On golden hinges moving, to let forth 
The King of Glory, in his powerful Word 
KtA Spirit, coming to create new worlds 
On heavenly ground they stood, and from the short* 
They viewed the vast immeasurable abyss 
Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, 
Up from the bottom tinned by furious winds 
And surging waves, as mountains, to assault 
Heaven's height, and with the centre mix the pole. 

" ' Silence, ye troubled waves ! and thou deep, peace I ! 
Said then the omnific Word : ' you* discord end ! ' 



♦€>- 



■*v* 



♦f 



4- 



172 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vii. 218-258. 

Nor stayed, but, on the wings of cherubim 
Uplifted, in paternal glory rode 
Far into Chaos, and the world unborn ; 
For Chaos heard his voice : him all his train 
Followed in bright procession, to behold 
Creation, and the wonders of his might. 
Then stayed the fervid wheels, and in his hand 
He took the golden compasses, 1 prepared 
In God's eternal store, to circumscribe 
This universe, and all created things : 
One foot he centred, and the other turned 
Round through the vast profundity obscure, 
And said : ' Thus far extend, thus far thy bound©., 
This be thy just circumference, world.' 
Thus God the Heaven created, thus the earth, 
Matter unformed and void : darkness profound 
Covered the abyss : but on the watery calm 
His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspread 
And vital virtue infused, and vital warmth 
Throughout the fluid mass, but downward purged 
The black tartareous cold infernal dregs, 
Adverse to life : then founded, then conglobed 
like things to like, the rest to several place 
Disparted, and between spun out the air, 
And earth self-balanced on her centre hung. 

" ' Let there be light !' said God, and forthwith light 
Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, 
Sprung from the deep, and from her native east 
To journey through the airy gloom began, 
Sphered in a radiant cloud, for yet the sun 
Was not; she in a cloudy tabernacle 
Sojourned the while. God saw the light was good 
And light from darkness by the hemisphere 
Divided : light the day, and darkness night 
He named. Thus was the first day even and morn : 
Nor passed uncelebrated, nor unsung 
By the celestial quires, when orient light 
Exhaling first from darkness they beheld; 
Birth-day of Heaven and earth ; with joy and shout 
The hollow universal orb they filled, 
And touched their golden harps, and hymning praised 

1 Prov, viii. 27: "When he prepared the heavens, I was there; 
when he set a compass upon the face of the deep." 



<> 



b. vii. 259-291. PARADISE LOST. 173 

God and his works; Creator him they sung, 
Both when first evening was, and when first mom, 

" Again, God said, ' Let there be firmament 1 
Amid the waters, and let it divide 
The waters from the waters ! ' and God made 
The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure, 
Transparent, elemental air, diffused 
Tn circuit to the uttermost convex 
Of this great round ; partition firm and sure, 
The waters underneath from those above 
Dividing : for as earth, so he the world 
"^uilt on circumfluous waters calm, in wide 
Crystalline ocean; and the loud misrule 
Of Chaos far removed, lest fierce extremes 
Contiguous might distemper the whole frame : 
And Heaven he named the firmament : so even 
And morning chorus sung the second day. 

** The earth was formed, but in the womb as yet 
Of waters, embryon immature involved, 
Appeared not : over ail the face of earth 
Main ocean flowed, not idle, but, with warm 
Prolific humour softening all her globe, 
Fermented the great mother to conceive, 
Satiate with genial moisture, when God said, 
1 Be gathered now, ye waters under Heaven, 
Into one place, and let dry land appear!' 
Immediately the mountains huge appear 
Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave 
Into the clouds; their tops ascend the sky : 
So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low 
Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, 
Capacious bed of waters : thither they 
Hasted with glad precipitance, uprolled 

1 Ik sy who understand the "firmament" to be the vast air, ex 
panded and stretched out on all sides to the starry heavens, esteem 
ihe waters above it to be those generated, in the middle region of the 
air, of vapours exhaled and drawn up thither from the steaming earth 
and nether waters, which descend again in such vast showers and 
mighty floods of rain, that not only rivers but seas may be imaginable 
above, as appeared when the " cataracts " came down in a deluge, " and 
•he flood-gates of Heaven were opened," Gen. vii. 2. Others, and 
those many, by these "waters abovs," understand the crystalline 
heaven (by Gassendus made double), by our author better named 
* crystalline ocean," by its clearness resembling water : " who layeth 
•.he beams of hia chambers in the water," Psalm civ. 3. 



♦&- 



4- 



&.. _^A, 

174 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. v:i. 292-326. 

■ 
As drops on dust ccnglobing from the dry; 
Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct, 
For haste ; such flight the great command impressed 
On the swift floods ; as armies at the call 
Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard) 
Troop to their standard, so the watery throng, 
Wave rolling after wave, where way they found, 
If steep, with torrent rapture ; if through plain, 
Soft ebbing; nor withstood them rock or hill, 
But they, or under ground, or circuit wide 
With serpent error wandering, found their way, 
And on the washy ooze deep channels wore ; 
Easy, ere God had bid the ground he dry, 
All hut within those banks, where rivers now 
Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train 
The dry land, earth, and tlie great receptacle 
Of congregated waters he called seas: 
And saw that it was good, and said, ' Let the earth 
Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed, 
And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind, 
Whose seed is in herself upon the earth ! ' 
He scarce had said, when the bare earth, till then 
Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorned, 
Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad 
Her universal face with pleasant green ; 
Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flowered 
Opening their various colours, and made gay 
Her bosom, smelling sweet : and, these scarce blown 
.Forth flourished thick the clustering vine, forth crept 
The smelling 1 gourd, up stood the corny reed 2 
Embattled in her field; and the humble shrub, 
And bush with frizzled hair implicit, 3 last 
Hose as in dance the stately trees, and spread 
Their branches bung with copious fruit, or gemmed 4 
Their blossoms; with high woods the hills were crowned, 

1 We must obviously read " swelling," with Bentley. 

2 The horny reeds stood upright among the undergrowths a' 
nature, like a grove of spears, or a battalion with its pikes aloft. 
Corneus (Latin), of or like horn. Virg. JEn. iii. 22. 

3 " Hair," coma in Latin, is used for leaves, twigs, and branches ; and 
" implicit " signifies entangled. The subject is low, and therefore he 
is forced to raise the expression. 

4 Put forth their blossoms, of gemmate (Latin) to bud forth.— 



<* 



- 



u. vn. 327-361. PARADISE LOST. 175 

With tufts the valleys and each fountain side, 
With borders long the rivers; that earth now 
Seemed like to Heaven, a seat where gods might dwell, 
Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 
Her sacred shades : though God had yet not rained * 
TTpon the earth, and man to till the ground 
None was, hut from the earth a dewy mist 
Went up and watered all the ground, and each 
Plant of the field, which, ere it was in the earth 
God made, and every herb, before it grew 
On the green stem ; God saw that it was good 
So even and mom recorded 2 the third day. 

" Again the Almighty spake : ' Let there be lights 
High in the expanse of Heaven, to divide 
The day from night ; and let them be for signs, 
For seasons, and for days, and ending years; 
And let them be for lights, as I ordain 
Their office in the firmament of Heaven 
To give light on the earth !' and it was so. 
And God made two great lights, great for their use 
To man, the greater to have rule by day, 
The less by night altern ; and made the stars, 
And set them in the firmament of Heaven 
To illuminate the earth, and rule the day 
In their vicissitude, and rule the night, 
And light from darkness to divide. God saw, 
Surveying his great work, that it was good : 
For of celestial bodies first the sun 
A mighty sphere he framed, unlightsome first, 
Though of ethereal mould : then formed the moon 
Globose, and every magnitude of stars, 
And sowed with stars the Heaven thick as a field : 
Of light by far the greater part he took, 
Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed 
\n the sun's orb, made porous 3 to receive 

This idea is -woven in from Gen. ii. 4-6. 

2 Celebrated, caused to be remembered. Tbis was done by th« 
even and morning chorus" (ver. 275), with "evening harps an* 

matin " (ver. 450), What is done by the voices and instruments is 
poetically ascribed to the time in which they were employed,— 
Richardson. 

3 Porous, yet firm. Milton seems to have taken this thought from 
vhat is said of the Bologna stone, which, being placed in the light 
will imbibe and for some time retail it so as to enlighten c dark pkee< 
^-Richardson. 



•$- 



-4 



T75 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vii. 352-35:, 



And drink the liquid light, firm to retain 

Her gathered beams, great palace now of light 

Hither, as to their fountain, other stars 

Repairing, in their golden urns draw light, 

And hence the morning planet gilds her horns; 

By tincture or reflection they augment 

Their small peculiar, though from human sight 

So far remote, with diminutica seen. 

First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, 

Regent of clay, and all the horizon round 

Invested with bright rays, jocund to run 

His longitude through Heaven's high road ; the gray 

Dawn and the Pleiades before him danced,' 

Shedding sweet influence : less bright the moon, 

But opposite m levelled west was set, 

His mirror, with full face borrowing her light 

From him, for other light she needed none 

In that aspect, and still that distance keeps 

Till night, then in the east her turn she shines, 

Revolved on Heaven's great axle, and her reign 

With thousand lesser lights dividual holds, 

With thousand thousand stars, that then appeared 

Spangling the hemisphere : then first adorned 

With their bright luminaries that set and rose, 

Glad evening and glad morn crowned the fourth day. 

" And God said : ' Let the waters generate 
Reptile 2 with spawn abundant, living soul: 
And let fowl fly above the earth, with wings 
Displayed on the open firmament of Heaven!' 
And God created the great whales, and each 

1 These are beautiful images, and very much resemble the famous 
picture of " Th^ Morning," by Guido, where the sun is represented in 
his chariot, with the Aurora flying before him shedding flowers, and 
seven beautiful nymph-like figure** dancing before and about his 
chariot, which are commonly taken for the hours, but possibly maj 
be tbe Pleiades, as they are seven in number, and it is not easy to 
assign a reason why the hours should be signified by that number par* 
ticularly. The Pleiades are seven stars in the neck of the constella- 
tion Taurus, which, rising about the time of the vernal equinox, are 
railed by the Latins Vergilice. — Newton. 

2 But by "reptile" or "creeping thing" here, Milton means all 
juch creatures as move in the waters (see Le Clerc's note on Gen. i. 
20) ; and by "creeping thing," mentioned in the sixth day's creation, 
he means " creeping things of the earth ; " for so, both in Milton's 
account, ver. 452, and in Gen. i. 24, the words "of the earth " are to 
be joined in construction to " creeping tVing. "—Pearce. 



& 



*()■ 



4- 



H. VII. 392—425. 



PARADISE LOST, 



177 



Soul living, each that crept, which plenteousiv 

The waters generated hy their kinds- 

And every bird of wing after his kindj 

And saw that it was good, and bless'd them, saying 

• Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas 

And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill ; 

And let the fowl he multiplied on the earth !' 

Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay. 

With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals 

Of fish that with then- fins and shining scales 

Olide under the green wave, in sculls 1 that oft 

Bank the mid sea; part single, or with mate, 

Graze the sea-weed their pasture, and through groves 

Of coral stray, or sporting with quick glance 

Show to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold. 

Or, in their pearly shells at ease, attend 

Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food 

1'n jointed armour watch; on smooth the seal 

And bended dolphins play: part huge of uuIk 

Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait* 

Tempest the ocean ; there leviathan, 2 

Hugest of living creatures, on the deep 

Stretched like a promontory, sleeps or swims 

And seems a moving land, and at his gills 

Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea. 

Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shores, 

Their brood as numerous hatch, from the egg that soon 

Bursting with kindly rupture forth disclosed 

Their callow young ; but feathered soon and fledge, 

They summed their pens, 3 and, soaring the air sublime. 

With clang despised the ground, under a cloud 

in prospect ; there the eagle and the stork 

On cliffs and cedar tops their eyries 4 build : 

Part loosely wing the legion, part mere wise 



* Multitudes, from the Saxon sceole, an assembly. Bat Newton 
wo aid prefer reading " and sculls," I think rightly. 

* See i. 200. 

" Pens," from penna, a feather. " Summed " is a term in falconry ] 
a nawk is said to be " full summed," when his feathers are grown to 
their fall strength. So Far. Eeg. i. 14 :— 



" With prosperous wing full summed." 
•Vents.— Cf. Job xxxix, 37, m\, 



Ricnardxon, 



4 



«$• 



178 MIL TON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vii. 426-451- 

In common, ranged in figure, wedge 1 their way. 

Intelligent of seasons, and set forth 

Their airy caravan, high over seas 

Flying, and over lands, with mutual wing 

Easing their flight; so steers the prudent crane 

Her annual voyage, borne on winds ; the air 

Floats, as they pass, fanned with unnumbered plumes ' 

From branch to branch the smaller birds with song 

Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings 

Till even, nor then the solemn nightingale 

Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays; 

Others on silver lakes and rivers bathed 

Their downy breast ; the swan with arched neck 

Between her 2 white wings mantling proudly, rows 

Her state with oary feet; yet oft they quit 

The dank, and, rising on stiff pennons, tower 

The mid aerial sky : others on ground 

Walked firm ; the crested cock, whose clarion sounds 

The silent hours, and the other whose gay train 

Adorns hini, coloured with the florid hue 

Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus 

With fish replenished, and the air with fowl, 

Evening and morn solemnized the fifth day 

" The sixth, and of creation last, arose 
With evening harps and matin, when God said : 

1 Let the earth bring forth soul living in her kind, 

1 This is well illustrated by a passage quoted by Newton from the 
K Spectacle de la Nature," which says upon this occasion, Dial, si.— 
" As to wild ducks and cranes, both the one and the other, at the ap- 
proach of winter, fly in quest of more favourable climates. They alt 
assemble at a certain day, like swallows and quails. They decamp at 
the same time, and it is very agreeable to observe then- flight. Thej 
generally range themselves in a long cchtmn, like an I, or in two lines 
united ia a point, like ' a V reversed.' " And so, as Milton says, — 

" ranged in figure, ' wedge their way.' " 

,£ The duck or quail who forms the point, cuts the air, arid facilitates & 
passage to those who follow ; but he is charged with this commission 
only for a certain time, at the conclusion of which he wheels into tbf 
rear, and another takes his post." And thus, as Milton says, — 

M with mutual win,'/ 
Easing their flight." 

2 Poets generally make the swan masculiue. Mi'ton probably took 
u : contrary course to avoid the disagreeable eound of "his state/* ir 



w* 



^ 



b. vn. 452-450. PARADISE LOST. 179 

Cattle, and creeping things, and beast of the earth, 

Each in their kind ! ' The earth obeyed, and straight 

Opening her fertile womb, teemed at a birth 

Jnnumerous living creatures, perfect forms, 

limbed and full grown : out of the ground up rose, 

As from his lair, the wild beast, where he wons 1 

m forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den ; 

Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walked * 

The cattle in the fields and meadows green : 

Those rare and solitary, these in flocks 

Pasturing at once, and in broad herds upsprung. 

The grassy clods now calved, 2 now half appeared 

The tawny lion, pawing to get free 

His hinder parts, then springs as broke from bonds. 

And rampant shakes his brinded mane : the ounce, 

The libbard, 3 and the tiger, as the mole 

Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw 

In hillocks : the swift stag from underground 

Bore up his branching head : scarce from his mould 

Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved 

His vastness : fleeced the flocks and bleating rose.. 

As plants : ambiguous between sea and land 

The river-horse and scaly crocodile. 

At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, 

Insect or worm : those waved then limber fans 

For wings, and smallest lineaments exact 

In all the liveries decked of summer's pride 

With spots of gold and purple, azure and green ; 

These as a line their long dimension drew, 

Streaking the ground with sinuous trace ; not all 

Minims of nature : some of serpent kind, 

Wondrous in length and corpulence, involved 

Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept 

The parsimonious emmet, provident 

Of future, in small room large heart enclosed J 

Pattern of just equality perhaps 

Hereafter, joined in her popular tribes 

Of commonalty : swarming next appeared 

The female bee, that feeds her husband drone 

1 ?axon fct " inhabits, dwells." 

- To 'calve " (from the Belgic word kalven) signifies to bring forth' 
it is a general word, and does not relate to cows only ; for hinds art 
-aid to " calve " in Job sxxix. 1, and Psalm xxix. 9. — Newton. 

i Leopard. 



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180 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, v. vh. 491-534. 

Deliciously, and builds her waxen cells 

With honey stored : the rest are numberless, 

\nd thou their natures know'st, and gav'st them names, 

Needless to thee repeated ; nor unknown 

The serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, 

Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes 

And hairy mane terrific, though to thee 

Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. 

" Now Heaven in all her glory shone, and rolled 
Her motions, as the great first Mover's hand 
First wheeled their course ; earth in her rich attire 
Consummate lovely smiled; air, water, earth, 
By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walked 
Frequent ; and of the sixth day yet remained : 
There wanted yet the master-work, the end 
Of all yet done ; a creature who, not prone 
And brute as other creatures, but endued 
With sanctity of reason, might erect 
His stature, and upright with front serene 
Govern the rest, self-knowing ; and from thence 
Magnanimous to correspond with Heaven, 
B ut grateful to acknowledge whence his good 
Descends : thither with heart, and voice, and eyes 
Directed in devotion, to adore 
And worship God supreme, who made him chief 
Of all his works; therefore the Omnipotent 
Eternal Father (for where is not he 
Present?) thus to his Son audibly spake : 

" ' Let us make now man in our image, man 
In our similitude, and let them rule 
Over the fish and fowl of sea and air, 
Beast of the field, and over all the earth, 
And every creeping thing that creeps the ground 
This said, he formed thee, Adam ; thee, O man, 
T)ust of the ground, ar,d in thy nostrils breathed 
iMe breath of life ; in his own image he 
Created thee, in the image of God 
Express, and thou becam'st a living soul. 
Male he cr sated thee, but thy consort 
Female, for race ; then bless'd mankind, and said : 
1 Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth; 
Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold 
Over fish of the sea, and fowl of the air, 
And every living thing that moves on the eartb 



*&♦ 



b. vii. 535-574. PARADISE LOST. \%\ 



Wherever thus created, for no place 

Is yet vustinct by name, thence, as thou know'st, 

He brought thee into this delicious grove, 

This garden, planted with the trees of God 

Delectable both to beheld and taste ; 

And freely all their pleasant fruit for food 

Gave thee; all sorts are here that all the earth yields 

Variety without end ; but of the tree 

Which, tasted, works knowledge of good and evil, 

Thou mayst not; in the day thou eat'st, thou diest • 

Death is the penalty imposed : beware, 

And govern well thy appetite ; lest Sin 

Surprise thee, and her black attendant Death. 

" Here finished he, and all that he had made 
Viewed, and behold all was entirely good ; 
So even and morn accomplished the sixth day 
Yet not till the Creator, from his work 
Desisting, though unwearied, up returned, 
Up to the Heaven of Heavens, his high abode, 
Thence to behold this new-created world, 
The addition of his empire, how it showed 
In prospect from his throne, how good, how fair, 
Answering his great idea. Up he rode, 
Followed with acclamation, and the sound 
Synrphonious often thousand harps that tuned 
Angelic harmonies : the earth, the air, 
Resounded (thou rememberest, for thou heard'st) 
The Heavens and all the constellations rung, 
The planets in then station 1 listening stood. 
While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 
1 Open, ye everlasting gates ! ' they sung ; 
1 Open, ye Heavens, your living doors ; let in 
The great Creator from his work returned 
Magnificent, his six days' work, a world; 
Open, and henceforth oft ; for God will deign 
To visit oft the dwellings of just men 
Delighted, and with frequent intercourse 
Thither will send his winged messengers 
On errands of supernal grace.' So sung 
The glorious train ascending: He through Heaven, 

1 The " station " of a planet is a term used in art, -when the pJwwi 
appears neither to go back-wards nor forwards, but to stand still <aTv j 
Leep the same place in »*- »rbifc. — Neutjn, 



> 



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1 82 MIL TON'S POE TICAL WORKS, b, to. 515-&& 

That opened wide her blazing portals, led 

To God's eternal house direct the way; 

A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, 

And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear, 

Seen in the galaxy, that milky way, 

Which nightly as a circling zone thou seest 

Powdered with stars. And now on earth the seventli 

Evening arose in Eden, for the sun 

Was set, and twilight from the east came on, 

Forerunning night ; when at the holy mount 

Of Heaven's high-seated top, the imperial throne 

Of Godhead, fixed for ever firm and sure, 

The Filial Power arrived, and sat him down 

With his great Father ; for he also went 

Invisible, yet stayed (such privilege 

Hath Omnipresence), and the work ordained, 

Author and end of all things, and frorn work 

•5ow resting, blessed and hallowed the seventh day, 

As resting on that day from all his work, 

But not in silence holy kept; the harp 

Had work, and rested not ; the solemn pipe, 

And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, 

All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, 

Tempered soft tunings, intermixed with voic8 

Choral or unison ; of incense clouds, 

Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount. 

Creation and the six days' acts they sung : 

' Great are thy works, Jehovah ! infinite 

Thy power I what thought can measure thee, or tongus 

Relate thee ? Greater now in thy return 

Than from the giant angels : thee that day 

Thy thunders magnified ; but to create 

Is greater than created to destroy. 

Who can impair thee, mighty King, or bound 

Thy empire ? Easily the proud attempt 

Of spirits apostate and their counsels vain 

Thou hast repelled, while impiously they thought 

Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw 

The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks 

To lessen thee, against his purpose serves 

To main' test the more thy might : his evil 

Thou usest, and from thence ereat'st more goocl 

Witness this new-made world, another Heaven 

Fruiu Heaven-gate not far, founded in view 



^ . , ______ ^4 

l. vii. 6i 9 -6.p. PARADISE LOST. 183 

On the clear hyaline, 1 the glassy sea ; 
Of amplitude almost immense, with stars 
Numerous, and every star perhaps a world 
Of destined habitation ; but thou know'st 
Their seasons : among these the seat of men. 
Earth, with her nether ocean cneumfused, 
Their pleasant dwelling-place. Thrice happy men, 
And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanced, 
Created n his image, there to dwell 
And worship him, and in reward to rulo 
Over his works, on eurth, in sea, or air, 
And multiply a race of worshippers 
Holy and just ; thrice happy if they know 
Their happiness, and persevere upright!' 
" So sung they, and the empyrean rung 
With hallelujahs : thus was sabbath kept. 
And thy request think now fulfilled, that asked 
How first tlris world and face of things began, 
And what before thy memory was done 
From the beginning, that posterity 
Informed by thee might know : if else thou seek'&i: 
A'jght, not surpassing human measure, say 

i Glossy substance. 



£>Jl> 09 THE (UtVlEHXU 3JO0K 



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1 84 J/7Z 7'CW '4" /W 77CV*Z WORKS, n. w«. i - « 



BOOK VIII, 



THE AEGUMEJJT. 

Adam inquires concerning celestial motions, is doubtfully answered, 
and exhorted to search rathe? tilings more worthy of knowledge. 
Adam assents, and, still desirous to detain Raphael, relates to him 
what he remembered since his own creation, his placing in Paradise, 
bis talk with God concerning solitude and fit society, his first meet- 
ing and nuptials with Eve, bis discourse with the angel thereupon, 
who, after admonitions repeated, departs. 

The angel ended, and in Adam's ear 
So charming left his voice, tnat ne a while 
Thought him still speaking, still stood 1 fixed to near, 
Then, as new waked, thus gratefully replied • 

" What thanks sufficient, or what recompense 
Equal have I to render thee, divine 
Historian, who thus largely hast allayed 
The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsafed 
This friendly condescension to relate 
Things else hy me unsearchable, now heard 
With wonder, but delight, and, as is due, 
With glory attributed to the high 
Creator ? Something yet of doubt remains, 
Which only thy solution can resolve. 
When I behold this goodly frame, this world 
Of Heaven and earth consisting, and compute 
Their magnitudes, tins earth a spot, a grain, 
An atom, with the firmament compared 
And all her numbered 2 stars, that seem to mil 
Spaces incomprehensible (for such 
Their distance argues, and their swift return 
Diurnal), merely to officiate 3 light 

1 1. 3. continued. 2 Numerous. 3 Futav»K 



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5 viii. 23-57. PARADISE LOST. 

Round this opacous 1 earth, this punctual spot. 
One day and night, in ail their vast survey 
Useless besides ; reasoning I oft admire, 
How nature, wise and frugal, could commit 
Such disproportions, with superfluous hand 
So many nobler bodies to create, 
Greater so manifold, to this one use, 
For aught appears, and on their orbs impose 
Such restless revolution day by day 
Repeated ; while the sedentary earth, 
That better might with far less compass move, 
Served by more noble than herself, attains 
Her end without least motion, and receives, 
As tribute, such a sumless journey brought 
Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light ; 
Speed, to describe whose swiftness number fails." 

So spake our sue, and by his countenance seeine; 
Entering on studious thoughts abstruse, which Eve 
Perceiving, where she sat retired in sight, 
With lowliness majestic from her seat, 
And grace that won who saw to wish her stay, 
Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowere, 
To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom, 
Her nursery; they at her coming sprung, 
And, touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew 
Yet went she not, as not with such discourse 
.Delighted, or not capable her ear 
Of what was high ; such pleasure she reserved, 
Adam relating, she sole audi tress : 
Her husband the relater she preferred 
Before the angel, and of him to ask 
Chose rather ; he, she knew, would intermix 
Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute 
With conjugal caresses ; from his lip 
Not words alone pleased her. Oh ! when meet now 

1 Dense, not transparent. 

2 He had called this earth "a spot" in ver. 17; he calls it here 
* this punctual spot," a spot no bigger than a point, compared with the 
firmament and fixed stars. Dr. Bentley says that the author designed 
" punctal ; " but " punctual " is derived from punctum, a point ; and as 
the English language 'was before in possession of the word " punc- 
tual " we may suppose that he chose to make use of this word rather 
than to coin a new one, especially since this signifies the same as the 
other. — Nncton. 



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4- 



1 86 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, u.vm. 58-96. 

Such pairs, in love and mutual honour joined? 
With goddess-like demeanour forth she went, 
Not unattended, for on her as queen 
A pomp of winning graces waited still, 
And from about her shot darts of desire 
Into all eyes to wish her still in sight. 
And Raphael now, to Adam's doubt proposed, 
Benevolent and facile thus replied : 

" To ask or search I blame thee not, for Heaven 
Is as the book of God before thee set, 
Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn 
His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years : 
This to attain, whether Heaven move or earth, 
Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest 
From man or angel the great Architect 
Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge 
flis secrets to be scanned by them who ought 
/lather admire ; or if they list to try 
Conjecture, he his fabric of the Heavens 
Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move 
His laughter at their quaint opinions wide 
Hereafter, when they come to model Heaven 
And calculate the stars, how they will wield 
The mighty frame ; how build, unbuild, contrive 
To save appearances; how gird the sphere 
With centric and eccentric 1 scribbled o'er, 
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb : 
Already by thy reasoning this I guess, 
Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest 
That bodies bright and greater should not serve 
The less not bright, nor Heaven such journeys run, 
Earth sitting still, when she alone receives 
The benefit. Consider first, that great 
Or bright infers not excellence : the earth 
Though, in comparison of Heaven, so small, 
Nor glistering, may of solid good contain 
More plenty than the sun that barren shines, 
Whose virtue on itself works no effect, 
But in the fruitful earth ; there first received, 

1 "Cycle" or "concentric" are such spheres whose centre is tho 
earae with, and "eccentric" stich -whose centres are different from, 
that of the earth. "Cycle " is a circle; " epieyele " is a circle upon 
mother circle. Expedients of the Ptolemaics to solve, the app?ren5 
difficulties in their system. — Richardsen 



«A, _ ■ ^ 

i. vin. 97-128. PARADISE LOST. 187 

His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. 

Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries 

Officious, but to thee, earth's habitant. 

And for the Heaven's wide circuit, let it speak 

The Maker's high magnificence, who built 

So spacious, and his line stretched out so fat 1 

That man may know he dwells not in his c\ro ; 

An edifice too large for him to fill, 

Lodged in a small partition, and the rest 

Ordained for uses to his Lord best known. 

The swiftness of those circles attribute, 

Though numberless, to his omnipotence, 

That to corporeal substances could add 

Speed almost spiritu al : me thou think'st not slow, 

Who since the morning hour set out from Heaven, 

Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived 

In Eden, distance inexpressible 

By numbers that have name. But this T urge, 

Admitting motion in the Heavens, to show 

Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved ; 

Not that I so afiinn, though so it seem 

To thee who hast thy dwelling here on earth. 

God, to remove his ways from human sense, 

Placed Heaven from earth so far, that earthly sight, 

If it presume, might err in things too high, 

And no advantage gain. What if the sun 

Be centre to the world, and other stars, 

By his attractive virtue and their own 

Incited, dance about him various rounds? 

Their wandering course now high, now low, then hid, 

Progressive, retrograde, or standing still, 

^n six thou seest ; l and what if seventh to these 

1 In the- " moon," and the "five other -wandering fires," as they are 
called, v. 177. Their motions are evident ; and what if the earth should 
be a seventh planet, and move three different motions, though to theT 
insensible ? The " three different motions " which the Copernicana 
attribute to the earth are — the " diurnal," round her own axis ; the 
" annual," round the sun ; and the " motion of libration," as it is called^ 
thereby the earth so proceeds in her orbit as that her axis is con° 
etantly parallel to the axis of the world. 

" "Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe," &c. 

You must either ascribe these motions to several spheres crossing 
and thwarting one another with crooked and indirect turnings and 
cindings ; or you must attribute them to the earth, and " save the sun 



4* 



^ ^ 

iSS MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b.viii. 129-150. 

The planet earth, so stedfast though she seem, 
Insensibly three different motions move ? 
Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, 
Moved contrary with thwart obliquities, 
Or save the sun his labour, and that swift 
Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed 
Invisible else, above all stars, the wheel 
Of day and night ; wli oh needs not thy belief, 
If earth industrious of herself fetch day 
Travelling east, and with her part averse 
From the sun's beam meet night, her other part 
Still luminous by his ray. What if that light, 
Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, 
To the terrestrial moon be as a star 
Enlightening her by day, as she by night 
This earth ? reciprocal, if land be there, 
Fields and inhabitants : her spots thou seest 
As clouds, 1 and clouds may rain, and rain produce 
Fruits in her softened soil, for some to eat 
Allotted there ; and other suns, perhaps, 
With their attendant moons thou wilt desciy, 
Communicating male and female light, 2 

his labour," and the primum mobile too, " that swift nocturnal and 
diurnal rhomb." It may be observed, that when Milton uses a Greek 
word, he frequently subjoins the English of it, as he does here, " the 
wheel of day and night." So he calls the primum mobile; and this 
primum mobile in the ancient astronomy was animaginary sphere above 
those of the planets and fixed stars, and therefore said by our author 
to be " supposed " and " invisible above all stars." This was conceived 
\o be the first mover, and to carry all the lower spheres round along 
with it ; by its rapidity communicating to them a motion whereby they 
revolved in twenty-four hours. " Which needs not thy belief, if earth," 
&c. But there is no need to believe this, if the earth, by revolving 
round on her own axis from west to east in twenty- four hours (" trave'- 
ling east"), enjoys day hi that half of her globe which is turned 
towards the sun, and is covered with night in the other half which is 
turned away from the sun. — Newton. 

1 It seems by this and by another passage, v. 419, as if our author 
thought that the spots in the moon were clouds and vapours ; but the 
most probable opinion is that they are her seas and waters, which 
reflect only part of the sun's rays, and absorb the rest. 

2 The suns communicate male, and the moons female light. And 
thus Pliny mentions it as a tradition, that the sun is a masculine star ; 
drying all things ; on the contrary, the moon is a soft and feminine 
star, dissolving humours ; and so the balance of nature is preserved, 
iome of the stars binding the elements, and others loosing them. — 
Newton. 









"M.-^+* 



n. vm. 151-183. PARADISE LOST. 189 

Which two great sexes animate the world, 
Stored in each orb, perhaps, with some that live. 
For sucn vast room in nature unpossessed 
By living soul, desert and desolate, 
Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 
Each orb a glimpse of light, conveyed so far 
Down to this habitable, 1 which returns 
light back to them, is obvious to dispute. 
But whether thus these things, or whether not , 
Whether the sun predominant in Heaven 
Rise on the earth, or earth rise on the sun , 
He from the east Iris naming road begin, 
Or she from west her silent course advance 
With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps 3 
On her soft axle, while she paces even,* 
And bears thee soft with the smooth air along; 
Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid ; 
Leave them to God above, him serve and fear : 
Of other creatures, as Mm pleases best, 
Wherever placed let him dispose : joy thou 
In what he gives to thee, this Paradise 
And thy fair Eve ; Heaven is for thee too high 
To know what passes there; be lowly wise : 
Think only what concerns thee and thy being , 
Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there 
Live, in what state, condition, or degree, 
Contented that thus far hath been revealed 
Not of earth only, but of highest Heaven. 

To whom thus Adam, cleared of doubt, replied 
" How fully hast thou satisfied me, pme 
Intelligence of Heaven, angel serene ! 
And, freed from intricacies, taught to live 
The easiest way, nor with perplexing thoughts 

1 Supply globe, or ear'h. 

2 Metaphors taken from a top, of which Virgil makes a whole 
simile, Mn. vii. 37S. It is an objection to the Copernican system that 
if the earth moved round on her axle in twenty-four hours, we should 
be sensible of the rapidity and violence of the motion ; and therefore 
to obviate this objection, it is not only said that " she advances her 
silent course — 

" With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps 
On her soft axle ;" 
but it is further added to explain it still more — 

" while she paces even, 
And bears thee soft with the smooth air along ;" 
for the air, the atmosphere, moves as well as the earth. — Xewton. 



4 



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190 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. E.vm.184-227. 






To interrupt the sweet of life, from which 

God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, 

And not molest us, unless we ourselves 

Seek them with wandering thoughts, and notions vain 

But apt the mind or fancy is to rove 

Unchecked, and of her roving is no end ; 

Till warned, or by experience taught, she learn, 

That not to know at large of things remote 

From use, obscure and subtle, but to know 

That which before us lies in daily life, 

Is the prime wisdom ; what is more, is fume 

Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, 

And renders us in things that most concern 

Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. 

Therefore from this high pitch let us descend 

A lower flight, and speak of things at hand 

Useful, whence haply mention may arise 

Of something not unseasonable to ask 

By sufferance, and thy wonted favour deigned. 

Thee I have heard relating what was done 

Ere my remembrance : now hear me relate 

My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard ; 

And day is yet not spent ; till then thou seest 

How subtly to detain thee I devise, 

Inviting thee to hear while I relate, 

Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply : 

For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heaven. 

And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear 

Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst 

And hunger both, from labour, at the hour 

Of sweet repast : they satiate, and soon fill, 

Though pleasant; but thy words, with grace divine 

Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety." 

To whom thus Raphael answered heavenly meek \ 
"Nor are thy lips ungraceful, sire of men, 
Nor tongue ineloquent ; for God on thee 
Abundantly his gifts hath also poured 
Inward and outward both, his image fair ; 
Speaking or mute all comeliness and grace 
Attends thee, and each word, each motion forrrw; 
Nor less think we in Heaven of thee od earth 
Than of our fellow-servant, and inquire 
Gladly into the ways of God with man : 
For God we see hath honoured thee, and act 



4. 



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r.< viii. 223-270. PARADISE LOST. «9t 



On man his equal love ; say therefore on, 

For I that day was absent, as befell, 

Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, 

Far on excursion toward the gates of Hell ; 

Squared in full legion (such command we had) 

To see that none thence issued forth a spy, 

Or enemy, while God was in his work ; 

Lest he, incensed at such eruption bold, 

Destruction with creation might have mixed. 

Not that they durst without his leave attempt, 

But us he sends upon his high behests 

For state, as sovran King, and to inure 

Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut 

The dismal gates, and barricadoed strong ; 

But long ere our approaching heard within 

Noise, other than the sound of dance or song, 

Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. 

Glad we returned up to the coasts of light 

Ere sabbath evening : so we had in charge. 

But thy relation now ; for I attend, 

Pleased with thy words no less than thou with mine." 

So spake the godlike power, and thus our sire : 
"For man to tell how human life began 
Is hard ; for who himself beginning knew ? 
Desire with thee still longer to converse 
Induced me. As new waked from soundest sleep, 
Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid 
In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun 
Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed. 
Straight toward Heaven my wondering eyes I turned 
And gazed 1 a while the ample sky ; till, raised 
By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, 
As thitherward endeavouring, and upright 
Stood on my feet ; about me round I saw 
Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains 
And liquid lapse of murmuring streams ; by these 
Creature*, that lived, and moved, and walked, or new s 
Birds on the branches warbling ; all things smiled ; 
With fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflowed. 
Myself I then perused, and limb by limb 
Surveyed, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran 
"With supple joints, as lively vigour led : 
But who I was, or where, or from what cause, 
1 (lazed nt. 



+4 



192 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vm. 271-313. 

Knew not ; to speak I tried, and forth with spake ; 
My tongue oheyed, and readily could name 
Whate'er I saw. 1 ' Thou sun,' said I, ' fair light, 
And thou enlightened earth, so fresh and gay, 
Ye hills and dales, yo rivers, -woods, and plains, 
And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, 
Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here ? 
Not of myself; by some great Maker, then, 
In goodness and ia power pre-eminent; 
Tell me, how may I know him, how adore, 
From whom I have that thus I move and live, 
And feel that I am happier than I know ? ' 
While thus I called, and strayed I knew not whither, 
From where I first drew air, and first beheld 
This happy light, when answer none returned, 
On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers, 
Pensive I sat me down ; there gentle sleep 
Fust found me, and with soft oppression seized 
My drowsied sense, untroubled, though I though^ 
I then was passing to my former state 
Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve : 
When suddenly stood at my head a dream, 
Whose inward apparition gently moved 
My fancy to believe I yet had being, 
And lived : One came, methought, of shape divinfc, 
And said, ' Thy mansion wants thee, Adam ; rise. 
First man, of men innumerable ordained 
First father ! called by thee, I come thy guide 
To the garden of bliss, thy seat prepared.* 
So saying, by the hand he took me raised, 
And over fields and waters, as in air 
Smooth sliding without step, last led me up 
A woody mountain, whose high top was plain, 
A circuit wide, enclosed, with goodliest tr^es 
Planted, with walks, and bowers, that what I saw 
Of earth before scarce pleasant seemed. Each tree 
Loaden with fairest fruit, that hung to the eye 
Tempting, stirred in me sudden appetite 
To pluck and eat ; whereat I waked, and founcJ 
Before mine eyes all real, as the dream 
Had lively shadowed : here had new begun 
My wandering, liad not ho who was my guide 
Up hither, from among the trees appeared, 
But in ver. 352, \d«,m asmbes this capability to the (*ift of Qo<h 

A_ _ — ,- ^ 






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a. viii. 3H-3S3. PARADISE LOST. 193 



Presence divine. Rejoicing, but with awe, 

In adoration at his feet I fell 

Snbmiss • he reared me, and ■ Whom thou sought'st [ am/ 

Said mildly, ■ Author of all this thou seest 

Above, or round about thee, or beneath. 

This Paradise I give thee ; count it thine 

To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat: 

Of every tree that in the garden grows 

Eat freely with glad heart ; fear here no dearth : 

But of the tiV3 whose operation brings 

Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set 

The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith, 

Amid the garden by the tree of life, 

Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste, 

And shun the bitter consequence ; for know, 

The day thou eat'st thereof, my sole command 

Transgressed, inevitably thou shalt die, 

Prom that day mortal ; and this happy state 

Shalt lose, expelled from hence into a world 

Of woe and sorrow.' Sternly he pronounced 

The rigid interdiction, which resounds 

Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice 

Not to incur, but soon his clear aspect 

Returned, and gracious purpose thus renewed: 

4 Not only these fan* bounds, but all the earth, 

To thee and to thy race I give ; as lords 

Possess it, and all things that therein live, 

Or live in sea, or ah-, beast, fish, and fowl. 

In sign whereof each bird and beast behold 

After then* kmds. I bring them to receive 

Prom thee then* names , and pay thee fealty 

With low subjection ; understand the same 

Of fish within their watery residence, 

Not hither summoned, since they cannot change 

Then element to draw the thinner air.' 

" As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold 
Approaching two and two ; these cowering low 
With blandishment; each bird stooped on his win^ 
I named them, 1 as they passed, ,<md understood 
Their nature, with such knowledge God endued 

1 Wonderful was the knowledge God bestowed on Adam, nor that least 
which concerned the naming of things aright, as Cicero agrees with 
Pythagoras : " Qui primus, quod summ se sapientise Pythagorse visum eat, 
5innibus rebus nomina impotrait." T ■'■ =c, Disp. lib, i. sect. %5.~Huui. 

^ ; . . ^ 



*<ik 



-^ 



194 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. n.viu. 354-39* 

My sudden apprehension : but in these 

1 found not what rnethought I wanted still; 

And to the heavenly vision thus presumed : 

" ' O by what name, for thou above all these, 
&bove mankind, or aught than mankind higher, 
Surpassest far my naming; how may I 
Adore thee, Author of this universe, 
And all tin's good to man ? for whose well being 
So amply, and with hands so liberal, 
Thou hast provided all tilings : but w r ith me 
I see not who partakes. In solitude 
What happiness ? who can enjoy alone, 
Or all enjoying, what contentment find ?' 
Thus I, presumptuous; and the Vision bright, 
As with a smile more brightened, thus replied : 

" ' What call'st thou solitude ? Is not the earth 
With various living creatures, and the air, 
Replenished, and all these at thy command 
To come and play before thee ? Know'st thou not 
Their language and their ways? They also know, 
And reason not contemptibly: with these 
Find pastime, and boar rule ; thy realm is large ' 
So spake the universal Lord, and seemed 
So ordering. I, with leave of speech implored, 
And humble deprecation, thus replied : 

" ' Let not my words offend thee, heavenly Power. 
My Maker, be propitious while I speak. 
Hast thou not made me here thy substitute, 
And these inferior far beneath me set? 
Among unequals what society 
Can sort, what harmony or true delight? 
Which must be mutual, in proportion due 
Given and received ; but in disparity 
The one intense, the other still remiss, 
Cannot well suit with either, but soon proYa 
Tedious alike. Of fellowship I speak, 
Such as I seek, fit to participate 
All rational delight, wherein the brute 
Cannot be human consort : they rejoice 
Each with their kind, lion with lioness; 
So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined: 
Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl, 
So well converse ; nor with the ox the ape ; 
Worse then can man with beast, and least of all ' 



4* 



'^' 



1 



b. vm. 338- 437- PARADISE LOST. 195 

" Whereto the Almighty answered, not displeased: 

1 A nice and subtle happiness, I see, 

Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice 

Of thy associates, Adam, and wilt taste 

No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary. 

What think' st thou then of me, and this my state? 

Seem I to thee sufficiently possessed 

Of happiness, or not ? who am alone 

From all eternity , for none I know 

Second to me. or like, equal much les^ 

How hare I, then, with whom to hold converse 

Save with the creatures which I made, and those 

To me inferior, infinite descents 

Beneath what other creatines are to thee?' 

*' He ceased: I lowly answered: ' To attain 
The height and depth of thy eternal ways 
All human thoughts come short, Supreme of things! 
Thou in thyself art .perfect, and in thee 
Is no deficience found ; not so is man, 
But in degree ; the cause of his desire 
By conversation with his like to help, 
Or solace his defects. No need that thou 
Shouldst propagate, already infinite, 
Aud through all numbers absolute, 1 though cne ; 
But man by number is to manifest 
His single imperfection, 2 and beget 
Like of his like, his image multiplied, 
In unity defective, which requires 
Collateral love, and dearest amity 
Thou in thy secrcsy although alone, 
Best with thyself accompanied, seek'st not 
Social communication, yet so pleased 
Canst raise thy cieature to what height thou wilt 
Of union or communion, deified : 
I by conversing cannot these erect 
From prone, nor in their ways complacence find.' 
Thus I emboldened spake, and freedom used 
Permissive, and acceptance found, which gained 
This answer from the gracious voice divine : 

" ' Thus far to try thee. Adam, I was pleased, 

- A Latin term, " omnibus numeris absolutus," to denote great &r,i 
Iftmpifcte perfection. 

s i. e. the imperfection cf him single. 
o 



<> 



t 



-H^ 



iy£ MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b.viii. 438-472. 

And find thee knowing not of beasts alone, 
Which thou hast rightly named ; but of thyself, 
Expressing well the spirit within thee free, 
My image, not imparted to the brute : 
Whose fellowship therefore, unmeet for thee, 
Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike, 
And be so minded still : I, ere thou spak'st, 
Knew it not good for man to be alone, 1 
And no such company as then thou sawest 
intended thee, for trial only brought, 
To see how thou couldst judge of fit and meet: 
What next I bring shall please thee, be assured, 
Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 
Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desire.' 

" He ended, or I heard no more, for now 
My earthly by his heavenly overpowered, 2 
Which it had long stood under, strained to the height 
In that celestial colloquy sublime, 
As with an object that excels the sense 
Dazzled and spent, sunk down, and sought repair 
Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, called 
By nature as in aid, and closed mine eyes. 
Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell 
Of fancy, my internal sight, by which 
Abstract as in a trance methought I saw, 
Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape 
Still glorious before whom awake I stood ; 
Who, stooping, opened my left side, and took 
From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm, 
And life-blood streaming fresh : wide was the wound, 
But suddenly with flesh filled up and healed : 
The rib he formed and fashioned with his hands ; 
Under his forming hands a creature grew, 
Manlike, but different sex, so lovely fair, 
That what seemed fair in all the world, seemed now 

1 Cf. Genesis ii. 18. 

2 The scripture says only, that " the Lord God caused a deep sleep 
to fall upon Adam " (Gen. ii. 21), and our author endeavours to give 
some account how it was effected. Adam was overpowered by con- 
versing with so superior a being, his faculties having been all strained 
and exerted to the highest ; and now he sunk iown quite dazzled and 
spent, and sought repair of sleep, which instantly fell on him, and 
closed his eyes. " Mine eyes he closed," says he again, turning the 
words, ancl making sleep a person, e» rt>§ %ncient poete eften do.-* 
Newton. 



iy 



y 



b. viii. 473-509- PARADISE LOST. 197 

Mean ; or in her summed up, in her contained, 
And in her looks, which from that time j>nfuse'3 
Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before, 
And into all things from her air inspired 
The spirit of love and amorous delight. 
She disappeared, and left me dark ; * I waked 
To find her, or for ever to deplore 
Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure 
When out of hope, behold her, not far off, 
Such as I saw her in my dream, adorned 
With what all earth or Heaven could bestow 
To make her amiable. On she came, 
Led by her heavenly Maker, though unseen, 
And guided by his voice, nor uninformed 
Of nuptial sanctity and marriage rites : 
Grace was in all her steps, Rfeaven in her eye, 
In every gesture dignity and love. 
t, overjoyed, could not forbear aloud : 

" ' This turn hath made amends : thou hast fulfilled 
Thy words, Creator bounteous and benign, 
Giver of all things fair ! but fairest this 
Of all thy gifts ! nor enviest. I now see 
Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself 
Before me : woman is her name, of man 
Extracted ; for tins cause he shall forego 
Father and mother, and to his wife adhere ; 
And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul' 

" She heard me thus, and though divinely brought, 
Yet innocence and virgin modesty, 
Her virtue and the conscience of her worth, 
That would be wooed, and not unsought bo won, 
Not obvious, not obtrusive, but retired, 
The more desirable ; or, to say all, 
Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought, 
Wrought in her so, that seeing me she tinned . 
I followed her ; she what was honour knew. 
And with obsequious majesty approved 

1 She that was my light vanished, and left me dark and comfortless 
B'or "light" is, in almost all languages, a metaphor for "joy" and 
u comfort," and " darkness " for the contrary. As Dr. Pearce observes 
it is something of the same way of thinking that Milton uses in hi* 
Sonnet on his deceased wife. After having described her as appearing 
to him, he says— 

" She fled, and day brought back my night." Neivton. 



ty 



A, 



T 



198 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. B.vm. 510-543. 

My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower 
I led her blushing like the morn : all Heaven 
And happy constellations on that hour 
Shed their selectest influence ; the earth 
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill ; 
Joyous the birds ; fresh gales and gentle airs 
Whispered it to the woods, and from their wings 
Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub, 
Disporting, till the amorous bird of night 
Sung spousal, and bid haste the evening star 
On his hill top, 1 to light the bridal lamp. 

" Thus have I told thee all my state, and brought 
My story to the sum of earthly bliss 
Which I enjoy, and mast confess to find 
In all things else delight indeed, but such 
As, used or not, works in the mind no change, 
Nor vehement desire : these delicacies 
I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flowers, 
Walks, and the melody of birds ; but here 
Far otherwise : transported I behold, 
Transported touch ; here passion first I felt, 
Commotion strange, in all enjoyments else 
Superior and unmoved, here only weak 
Against the charm of beauty's powerful glance. 
Or nature tailed in me, and left some part 
Not proof enough such object to sustain 
Or, from my side subducting, took perhaps 
More than enough ; at least, on her bestowed 
Too much of ornament, in outward show 
Elaborate, of inward less exact. 
For well I understand in the prime end 
Of nature her the inferior, in the mind 
And inward faculties, which most excel, 
In outward also her resembling less 

1 The " evening star " is said to " light the bridal lamp," in allusion 
to the ancient custom of conducting the bride home to her bridegroom 
by torchlight. " On his hill top " also refers to a classic notion, it 
being supposed that when this star appeared eastward in the morning 
it rose on mount Ida. Compare Spenser, F. Q. L 2- 1 ;— 
" Phoebus' fiery car 
In haste was climbing up the eastern hill." 

And S'lftkspeare, Romeo and Juliet, act ii.: — 

" Now is the sun upon the highmoat hill 
Of this day's journey." 



$< 



4- , ^4 

b.viii. 544-585- PARADISE LOST. 199 

His image who made both, and less expressing 
The character of that dominion given 
O'er other creatures ; yet when I approach 
Her loveliness, so absolute 1 she seems, 
And in herself complete, so well to know 
Her own, that what she wills to do or say 
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best j 
All higher knowledge in her presence falls 
Degraded ; wisdom in discourse with her 
Loses discountenanced, and like folly shows; 
Authority and reason on her wait, 
As one intended first, not after made 
Occasionally; and, to consummate all, 
'Greatness of mind and nobleness their seat 
Build in her loveliest, and create an awe 
About her, as a guard angelic placed." 

To whom the angel, with contracted brow: 
" Accuse not nature, she hath done her part ; 
Do thou but thine, and be not diffident 
Of wisdom ; she deserts thee not, if tbou 
Dismiss not her, when most thou need'st her niglij 
By attributing overmuch to things 
Less excellent, as thou thyself pjerceiv'st. 
For what admir'st thou, what transports thee so ? 
An outside? fair, no doubt, and worthy well 
Thy cherishing, thy honouring, and thy love, 
Not thy subjection : weigh with her thyself; 
Then value : oft-times nothing profits more 
Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right 
Well managed; of that skill the more thou knoVet, 
The more she will acknowledge thee her head, 
And to realities yield all her shows : 
Made so adorn 2 for thy delight the more, 
Bo awful, that with honour thou mayst love 
Thy mate, who sees when thou art seen least wisa. 
But if the sense of touch whereby mankind 
Is propagated seem such dear delight 
Beyond all other, think the same vouchsafed 
To cattle and each beast ; which would not be 
To them made common and divulged, if augb: 
Therein enjoyed were worthy to subdue 
The soul of man, or passion in him move 

1 i. e. perfect, complete. 

s i. e. adorned, decked: an Italian form. 



■# 



♦A, . ►<&. 

200 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. vin. 586-629. 

What higher in her society thou find'st 
Attractive, human, rational, love still ; 
In loving thou dost well, in passion not, 
Wherein true love consists not ; love refines 
The thoughts, and heart enlarges, hath his seal 

!In reason, and is judicious, is the scale 
By which to heavenly love thou may'st ascend, 
Not sunk in carnal pleasure; for which cause 
Among the beasts no mate for thee was found." 
To whom thus, half abashed, Adam replied : 
" Neither her outside formed so fair, nor aught 
In procreation common to all kinds 
(Though higher of the genial bed by far, 
And with mysterious reverence I deem), 
So much delights me, as those graceful acts, 
Those thousand decencies that daily flow 
From all her words and actions mixed with love 
And sweet compliance, which declare unfeigned 
Union of mind, or in us both one soul ; 
Harmony to behold in wedded pair 
More grateful than harmonious sound to the ear 
Yet these subject not: I to thee disclose 
What inward thence I feel, not therefore foiled, 
Who meet with various objects, from the sense 
Variously representing ; yet, still free, 
Approve the best, and follow what I approve. 
To love thou blamest me not ; for love, thou say'st.. 
Leads up to Heaven, is both the way and guide ; 
Bear with me, then, if lawful what I ask. 
Love not the heavenly spirits? and how their love 
Express they? by looks only? or do they mix 
Irradiance, virtual or immediate touch?" 

To whom the angel, with a smile that glowed 
Celestial rosy red, love's proper hue, 
Answered : " Let it suffice thee that thou know'* * 
Us happy, and without love no happiness. 
Whatever pure thou in the body enjoy' st 
'And pure thou wert created) we enjoy 
in eminence, and obstacle find none 
Of membrane, joint, or limb, exclusive bars; 
Easier than air with air, if spirits embrace, 
Total they mix, union of pure with pure 
Desiring ; nor restrained conveyance need 
, &s flesh to mix with flesh or soul with soul 



<'- 



<> 



4 



b. viii. 630-653. PARADISE LOST. 201 

But I can now no more ; l the parting sun 

Beyond the earth's green cape and verdant isles 

Hesperian sets, my signal to depart. 

Be strong, live happy, and love, but first of all 

Him whom to love is to obey, and keep 

His great command ; take heed lest passion swa^ 

Thy judgment to do aught which else free will 

Would not admit ; thine and of all thy sons 

The weal or woe in thee is placed : beware ! 

1 in thy persevering shall rpjoice, 

And all the blest : stand fast ; to stand or fall 

Free in thine own arbitrernent it lies. 

.Perfect within, no outward aid require ; 

And all temptation to transgress repel." 

So saying, he arose ; whom Adam thus 
Followed with benediction : " Since to part, 
Go, heavenly guest, ethereal messenger, 
Sent from whose sovran goodness I adore. 
Gentle to me and affable hath been 
Thy condescension, and shall be honoured ever 
With grateful memory : thou to mankind 
Be good and friendly still, and oft return." 

So parted they : the angel up to Heaven 
From the thick shade, and Adam to his bower 

1 The conversation was now become of such a nature that it was 
proper to put an end to it; and now " the parting sun beyond the 
earth's green cape," beyond Cape de Verd, the most western point of 
Africa; " and verdant isles," the islands of Cape de Verd, a knot oi 
Bmall islands lying off Cape de Yerd, subject to the Portuguese; 
" Hesperian sets," sets westward; from Hesperus, the evening star 
appearing there, " my signal to depart," for he was only to stay ti ! 
the evening, v. 3T6 — 

"for these mid hours Ul) evening rise, 
I LfcTO at will," Neivt&i 



END 0* THE E1UHTH BOOH 



^ 



><h 



^ _ _ — __ — . M 



202 MIL TON 'S POa TIC A L WORKS. 



BOOK DL 



THE ARGUMENT. 

Satan, having compassed the earth, with meditated guile returns as 
a mist by night into Paradise; enters into the serpent sleeping. 
Adam and Eve in the morning go forth to their labours, which Eve 
proposes to divide in several places, each labouring apart : Adam 
consents not, alleging the danger lest that enemy, of whom they 
were forewarned, should attempt her found alone : Eve, loath to 
be thought not circumspect or firm enough, urges her going apart, 
the rather desirous to make trial of her strength; Adam at last, 
yields. The serpent finds her alone; Ms subtle approach, first 
gazing, then speaking, with much flattery extolling Eve above all 
other creatures. Eve, wondering to hear the serpent speak, asks 
how he attained to human speech and such understanding not till 
now ; the serpent answers, that by tasting of a certain tree in the 
garden he attained both to speech and reason, till then void of 
both ; Eve requires him to bring her to that tree, and finds it to be 
the tree of knowledge forbidden : the serpent, now grown bolder, 
with many wiles and arguments induces her at length to eat; she, 
pleased with the taste, deliberates a while whether to impart 
thereof to Adam or not; at last brings him of the fruit; relates what 
persuaded her to eat thereof: Adam. $t first amazed, but perceiving 
her lost, resolves, through vehemence of love, to perish with her ; 
and, extenuating the trespass, eats also of the fruit: the effects 
thereof in them both; they seek to cover their nakedness J then fall 
to variance and accusation of one another. 

No more of talk where God or angel guest 
With man, as with his friend, familiar used 
To sit indulgent, and with him partake 
Rural repast, permitting him the while 
Venial discourse unblamed : I now must change 
Those notes to tragic ; foul distrust, and breach 
Disloyal on the part of man, revolt, 
And disobedience ; on the part of Heaven 
Now alienated distance and distaste 



4* 



A 



b. ix. io-3s. PARADISE LOST, *D3 

Anger and just rebuke, and judgment given, 

That brought into tnis world a world of woe, 

Sin and her shadow Death, and misery 1 

Death's harbinger : sad task, yet argument 

Not less but more heroic than the wrath 

Of stern Achilles 3 on his foe jrursued 

Thrice fugitive about Troy wall ; or rage 

Of Turn us for Lavinia 3 disespoused; 

Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long 

Perplexed the Greek and Cytherea's sou \ A 

If answerable style I can obtain 

Of my celestial patroness, who deigns 

Her nightly visitation unimplored, 5 

And dictates to me slumbering, or inspires 

Easy my unpremeditated Ferse : 

Since first this subject for heroic song 

Pleased me long choosing, and beginning late ,• 

Not sedulous by nature to indite 

Wars, hitherto the only argument 

Heroic deemed, chief mastery to dissect 

With long and tedious havoc fabled knights 

In battles feigned ; the better fortitude 

Of patience and heroic martyrdom 

Unsung; or to describe races and games, 7 

Or tilting furniture, emblazoned shields, 8 

Impresses quaint, 9 caparisons and steeds ; 

By " misery" here, Milton means sickness, disease, and all soils 
of mortal pains. So when in xi. Michael is going to name the 
beveral diseases in the lazar-house represented to Adam in a vision, 
be says, ver. 475 : — 

" that thou may'st know 
What misery the inabstinence of Eve 
Shall bring on men." — Pearce. 

2 The argument of the Iliad. 3 The argument of the iEneid. 

4 Cupid, the son of Venus. 
6 Milton was accustomed to study at night. 

6 Milton had early intended to write an epic poem on the subject 
of Kiug Arthur. 

7 As the ancient poets have done ; Homer, in the twenty-third book 
of the Iliad; Virgil, in the fifth book of the iEneid; and Statius, in 
the sixth book of his Thebaid; or " tilts" and " tournaments," which 
are often the subjects of the modern poets, as Ariosto, Spenser, anj 
the like. — Newton. 

B Uncommon witty devices or emblems, painted on their shields 
usually with a motto. "We remember one which was not painted; 
'twas a blank shield ; the motto imported that the wearer would win 



4- 



204 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 36-64. 

Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights 
At joust or tournament; then marshalled feast 
Served up in hall with sewers and seneschals; 
The skill of artifice or office mean, 
Not that which justly gives heroic name 
To person or to poem. Me of these 
Nor skilled, nor studious, higher argument- 
Remains, sufficient of itself to raise 
That name, unless an age too late, or cold 
Climate, or years, 1 damp my intended wing 
Depressed, and much they may, if all be mine, 
"Not hers who brings it nightly to my ear, 

The sun was sunk, and after him the staf 
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring 
Twilight upon the earth, short arbiter 
'Twixt day and night, 2 and now from end to end 
Night's hemisphere had veiled the horizon round : 
When Satan, who late fled before the threats 
Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improved 
In meditated fraud and malice, bent 
On man's destruction, maugre what might hap 
Of heavier on himself, fearless returned. 
By night he fled, and at midnight returned 
From compassing the earth, cautious of day, 
Since Uriel, regent of the sun, descried 
His entrance, and forewarned the cherubim 
That kept their watch ; thence full of anguish driven, 
The space of seven continued nights he rode 
With darkness; thrice the equinoctial line 8 



ly his valour wherewith to adorn it. " Bases," from bas (French), 
they fall low to the ground; they are also called the housing, from 
*ousse, bedaggled. " Sewers," from asseoir (French), to set down; 
for those officers set the dishes on the table ; in old French, asseours. 
" Seneschals," from two German words, signifying a servant of a 
lunily ; and was applied by way of eminence to the principal servant, 
Jhe steward. — Richardson. 

1 Milton was nearly sixty years of age when this poem was 
published. 

2 This expression was probably borrowed from the beginning of 
Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, where, speaking of the sun about the time 
of the equinox, he calls him " an indifferent arbiter between the nigh* 
and the day." 

*■ i. e. he was three days moving round from east to west, as the 
sun does, but always on the opposite side of the globe in darkness. 



*$ 



JL 



x 



b ix. 65-35. PARADISE LOST. 205 

He circled; 1 four times crossed the car of night 

From pole to pole, traversing each coliire ;* 

On the eighth returned, and on the coast averse 

From entrance or cherubic watch, by stealth 

Found unsuspected way. There was a place, 

Now not, though sin, not time, first wrought the change, 

Where Tigris at the foot of Paradise 

Into a gulf shot under ground, till part 

Rose up a fountain by the tree of life ; 

In with the river sunk, and with it rose 

datan, involved in rising mist; then sought 

Where to he hid ; sea he had searched, and land, 

From Eden over Pontus, 8 and the pool 

Maeotis, up beyond the river Ob ; 

Downward as far antarctic ; and in length 

West from Orontes to the ocean barred 

At D arien ; thence to the land where flows 

Ganges and Indus : thus the orb he roamed 

With narrow search, and with inspection deep 

Considered every creatine, which of all 

Most opportune might serve his wiles, and found 

1 i. e. did not move directly on with the night as before, but crossed 
over from N. to S. and from S. to N. pole. 

2 The " colures " are two great circles, intersecting each other at 
right angles in the poles of the world, and encompassing the earth 
from N. to S. and from S. to N. Hence, observes Newton, as " Satan 
was moving from pole to pole, at the same time the car of night was 
moving from east to west, if he would keep still in the shade of night 
as he desired, he could not move in a straight line, but must move 
obliquely, and thereby cross the two colures." 

3 " He searched" both " sea and land" northward " from Eden 
over Pontus," Pontus Euxinus, the Euxine Sea, now the Black Sea, 
above Constantinople, " and the pool Maeotis," Palus Maeotis, above 
tbe Black Sea, " up beyond the river Ob," Ob, or Oby, a great river of 
Muscovy near the northern pole. " Downward as far as antarctic,'' 
as far southward ; the northern hemisphere being elevated on our 
globes, the north is called " up" and the south " downward ;" " antarctic," 
south, the contrary to " arctic" north, from apx^og, the bear, the most 
conspicuous constellation near the north pole ; but no particular 
place is mentioned near the soutb pole, there being all sea or land 
unknown. " And in length," as north is up and south is down, so in 
length is east or west; " west from Orontes," a river of Syria, west- 
ward of Eden, running into the Mediterranean, " to the ocean barred 
at Darien," the isthmus of Darien in the West Indies, a neck of land 
that joins North and South America together, and hinders the ocean 
as it were with a bar from flowing between them; and the metaphor 
ui " the ocean barred" is in alius '0 1 to Job rxxviii. 10. — Newton. 



206 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 86-126. 

The serpent subtlest beast of all the field. 
Him after long debate, irresolute 
Of thoughts revolved, his final sentence chose 
Fit vessel, fittest imp 1 of fraud, in whom 
To enter, and his dark suggestions hide 
From sharpest sight; for in the wily snake, 
Whatever sleights, none would suspicious mark, 
As from his wit and native subtlety 
Proceeding ; which, in other beasts observed, 
Doubt might beget of diabolic power 
Active within beyond the sense of brute. 
Thus he resolved, but first from inward grief 
His bursting passion into plaints thus poured : 

earth ! how like to Heaven, if not preferred 
More justly, seat worthier of gods, as built 
With second thoughts, reforming what was old ! 
For what God, after better, worse would build? 
Terrestrial Heaven, danced round by other heavens 
That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps, 
Light above light, for thee alone, as seems, 
In thee concentring all their precious beams 
Of sacred influence ! As God in Heaven 
Is centre, yet extends to all, so thou 
Centring receiv'st from all those orbs, in thee, 
Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears 
Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth 
Of creatures animate with gradual life 
Of growth, sense, reason, all summed up in man. 
With what delight could I have walked thee round, 
If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange 
Of hill and valley, rivers, woods, and j)lams, 
Now land, now sea, and shores with forest crowned, 
Rocks, dens, and caves ! but I in none of these 
Find place or refuge ; and the more I see 
Pleasures about me, so much more I feel 
Torment within me, as from the hateful siege 
Of contraries ; all good to me becomes 
Bane, and in Heaven much worse would be my state. 
But neither here seek I, no, nor in Heaven 
To dwell, unless by mastering Heaven's supreme ; 
Nor hope to be myself less miserable 

Fittest stock to graft his devilish fraud upon. " Imp," cf the 
Saxon imparl, to put into, to graft upon. Tims children are called 
•*Ul$ imps, from their imitating all they see and hear.- -Hume. 



' 



>fy 



<> 



b. ix. 127-167. PARADISE LOST. 207 

By what I seek, but others to make such 

As I, though thereby worse to me redound : 

For only in destroying I find ease 

To my relentless thoughts; and him destroyed, 

Or won to what may work his utter loss, 

For whom all this was made, all this will soon 

Follow, as to him linked in weal or woe ; 

In woe then ; that destruction wide may range : 

To me shall be the glory sole among 

The infernal powers, in one day to have marred 

What he, Almighty styled, six nights and days 

Continued making, and who knows how long 

Before had been contriving, though perhaps 

Not longer than since I in one night freed 

From servitude inglorious well nigh half 

The angelic name, and thinner left the throng 

Of his adorers : he, to be avenged, 

And to repair his numbers thus impaired, 

Whether such virtue spent of old now failed 

More angels to create, if they at least 

Are his created, or, to spite us more, 

Determined to advance into our room 

A creature formed of earth, and him endow, 

Exalted from so base original, 

With heavenly spoils, our spoils : what he decreed 

He effected ; man he made, and for him built 

Magnificent this world, and earth his seat, 

Him lord pronounced, and (oh, indignity !) 

Subjected to his service angel-wings, 1 

And flaming ministers to watch and tend 

Their earthly charge : of these the vigilmce 

I dread, and to elude, thus wrapped in r.iist 

Of midnight vapour, glide obscure, and pry 

In every bush and brake, where hap ma; 7 find 

The serpent sleeping, in whose mazy folds 

To hide me and the dark intent I bring. 

Oh, foul descent! that I, who erst contei dcd 

With gods to sit the highest, am now coi strained 

Into a beast, and mixed with bestial slime, 

This essence to incarnate and imbrute, 

That to the height of deity aspired ! 

' Milton seems to have had the old story of Prometheu9 in mini, 
representing the evil portion of the gods as jealous of the benefit* 
bestowed on mankind, 



$ 



•& 



•O 



208 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 168-209. 

But what will not ambition and revenge 

Descend to ? who aspires must down as low 

As high he soared, obnoxious first or last 

To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet. 

Bitter ere long back on itself recoils : 

Let it ; I reck not, so it light well aimed, 

Since higher I fall short, on him who next 

Provokes my envy, this new favourite 

Of Heaven, this man of clay, son of despite, 

Whom, us the more to sp>ite, his Maker raised 

"From dust: spite then with spite is best repaid." 

So saying, through each thicket dank or dry 
Like a black mist low creeping, he held on 
His midnight search, where soonest he might find 
The serpent : him fast sleeping soon he found 
In labyrinth of many a round self-rolled, 
His head the midst, well stored with subtle wiles : 
Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den, 
Nor nocent 1 yet, but on the grassy herb 
Fearless, unfeared, he slept : in at his mouth 
The devil entered, and his brutal sense, 
In heart or head, possessing, soon inspired 
With act intelligential ; but his sleep 
Disturbed not, waiting close the approach of morn 
Now when as sacred light began to dawn 
In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed 
Their morning incense, when all tilings that breathe, 
From the earth's great altar send up silent praise 
To the Creator, and his nostrils fill 
With grateful smell, 2 forth came the human pair, 
And joined their vocal worship to the quire 
Of creatures wanting voice ; that done, partake 
The season, prime for sweetest sents 3 and airs : 
Then commune how that day they best may ply 
^heir growing w r ork • for much their work outgrew 

he hands' despatch of two gardening so wide. 
j'aid Eve first to her husband thus began : 

" Adam, well may we labour still to dress 
This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower, 
Our pleasant task enjoined ; but, till more hands 
Aid us, the work under our labour grows, 
Luxurious by restraint; what we by day 

1 Baleful. r Cf. Genes, viii. 21. 

Scents, so spelt from the Latin aentire 



<y 



& 



b. ix. 210-253. PARADISE LOST. 209 

Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind, 
One night or two with wanton growth derides, 
Tending to wild. Thou, therefore, now advise, 
Or bear what to my mind first thoughts present ; 
Let us divide our labours, thou where choice 
Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind 
The woodbine round this arbour, or direct 
The clasping ivy where to climb, while I, 
In yonder spring of roses intermixed 
With myrtle, find what to redress till noon : 
For while so near each other thus all day 
Our task we choose, what wonder if so near 
Looks intervene and smiles, or object new 
Casual discourse draw on, which intermits 
Our day's work, brought to little, though begun 
Early, and the hour of supper comes unearned f 

To whom mild answer Adam thus returned : 
" Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond 
Compare above all living creatines dear ! 
Well hast thou motioned, well thy thoughts employed 
How we might best fulfil the work which here 
God hath assigned us, nor of me shalt pass 
Unpraised ; for nothing lovelier can be found 
In woman, than to study household good, 
And good works in her husband to promote 
Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed 
Labour, as to debar us when we need 
Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, 
Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse 
Of looks and smiles; for smiles from reason flow, 
To brute denied, and are of love the food ; 
Love, not the lowest end of hmnan life. 
Tor not to irksome toil, but to delight 
fie made us, and delight to reason joined, 
These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands 
Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide 
As we need walk, till yovmger hands ere long 
Assist us : but if much converse perhaps 
Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield; 
For solitude sometimes is best society, 
And short retirement urges sweet return 
But other doubt possesses me, lest harm 
Befall thee severed from me ; for thou know'st 
What hath been warned us. whot malicious foe. 



* 



*^» 



^ — ^ 

210 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 254-291. 

Envying our happiness, and of his own 
Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame 
By sly assault ; and somewhere nigh at hand 
TVatches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find 
His wish and best advantage, us asunder, 
Hopeless to circumvent us joined, where each 
To other speedy aid might lend at need ; 
Whether his first design be to withdraw 
Our fealty from God, or to disturb 
Conjugal love, than which perhaps no bliss 
Enjoyed by us excites his envy more ; 
Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side 
That gave thee being, still shades thee and protects. 
The wife, where danger or dishonour links, 
Safest and seemliest by her husband stays, 
Who guards her, or with her the worst endures." 

To whom the virgin 1 majesty of Eve, 
As one who loves, and some unkindness meets, 
With sweet austere composure thus replied : 

" Offspring of Heaven and earth, and ail earth's lord, 
That such an enemy we have, who seeks 
Our ruin, both by thee informed I learn, 
And from the parting angel overheard, 
As in a shady nook I stood behind, 
Just then returned at shut of evening flowers. 
But that thou shouldst my firmness, therefore, doubt 
To God or thee, because we have a foe 
May tempt it, I expected not to hear 
His violence thou fear'st not, being such 
As we, not capable of death or pain, 
Can either not receive, or can repel. 
His fraud is then thy fear, which plain infers 
Thy equal fear that my firm faith and love 
Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced ; 
Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy breast, 
Adam, misthought of her to thee so dear? 2 

To whom with healing words Adam replied : 
" Daughter of God and man, 3 immortal Eve, 

1 Ancient writers used this term with greater latitude than is 
usual now. 

2 i. e. if I am so dear to yon as you said (cf. vcr. 227), how can you 
think amiss of me ? 

3 . As Eve had called Adam " offspring of Heaven and earth," as 
made by God out of the dust of tks earth; so Adam calls Eve 



4- 



b. ix. 292-331. PARADISE LOST. 211 

For sucli thou art, from sin and blame entire : 

Not diffident of thee do I dissuade 

Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid 

The attempt itself, intended by our foe. 

For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses 

The tempted with dishonour foul, supposed 

Not incorruptible of faith, not proof 

Against temptation : thou thyself with scorn 

And anger wouldst resent the offered wrong, 

Though ineffectual found : misdeem not, then, 

If such affront I labour to avert 

From thee alone, which on us both at once 

The enemy, though bold, will hardly dare : 

Or, daring, first on me the assault shall light 

Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn; 

Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce 

Angels ; nor think superfluous others' aid. 

I from the influence of thy looks receive 

Access in every virtue ; in thy sight 

More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were, 

Of outward strength ; while shame, thou looking oia, 

Shame to be overcome or over-reached, 

Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite. 

Why should not thou like sense within thee feel 

When I am present, and thy trial choose 

With me, best witness of thy virtue tried?" 

So spake domestic Adam in his care 
And matrimonial love , but Eve, who thcwight 
Less attributed to her faith sincere, 
Thus h^r reply with accent sweet renewed \ 

" [f this be our condition, thus to dwelj 
In narrow circuit straitened by a foe, 
Subtle or violent, we not endued 
Single with like defence, wherever met, 
How are we happy, still in fear of harm? 
But harm precedes not sin : only our foe, 
Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem 
Of our integrity : his foul esteem 
Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns 
Foul on hhnoelf ; then wherefore shunned or feared 

11 daughter of God and man," as made by God out of man; and 
acknowledges her to be " immortal," as she had said herself, ver. 288, 
that they were " not capable of death or pain ;" but only so long st 
she was " entire fr»na sin <«ad blame." — Newlm. 
P 

Kp * — — — ■ — — ■ — — *<!>♦ 



♦0- 



212 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, a. nr. 33*^37* 



1 



By us ? who rather double honour gain 

From his surmise proved false, find peace within, 

Favour from Heaven, our witness from the event. 

4nd what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed 

Mone, without exterior help sustained ? 

Let us not, then, suspect our happy state 

Left so imperfect by the Maker wise, 

As not secure to single or combined. 

Frail is our happiness, if this be so. 

And Eden were no Eden thus exposed." 

To whom thus Adam fervently replied : 
** O woman, best are all things as the will 
Of God ordained them; his creating hand 
Nothing imperfect or deficient left 
Of all that he created, much less man, 
Or aught that might his happy state secure, 
Secure from outward force ; within himself 
The danger lies, yet lies within his power : 
Against his will he can receive no harm 
But God left free the will, for what obeys 
Reason, is free , and reason he made right, 
But bid her well be ware, and still erect ; 
Lest by some fair-appearing good surprised 
She dictate false, and misinform the will 
To do what God expressly hath forbid 
Not then mistrust, but tender love, enjoins 
That I should mind thee oft ; and mind thou me 
Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve, 
Since reason not impossibly may meet 
Some specious object by the foe suborned, 
And fall into deception unaware, 
Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warned. 
Seek not temptation then, which to avoid 
Were better, and most likely, if from me 
Thou sever not: trial will come unsought. 
Wouldst thou approve thy constancy, approve 
First thy obedience ; the other who can know, 
Not seeing thee attempted, who attest? 
But if thou think trial unsought may find 
Us both securer than thus warned thou seem'st 
Go ; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more ; 
Go in thy native innocence ; rely 
On what thou hast of virtue , summon all : 
For God towards thee hath done his part: do thij\a." 

§ • — — -^ 



*&♦ 



b. ix. 376-415- PARADISE LOST. 213 

So spake the patriarch of mankind ; but Eve 
Persisted; yet subniiss, though last, replied: 

" With thy permission, then, and thus forewarned, 
Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words 
Touched only, that our trial, when least sought, 
May find us both, perhaps, far less prepared, 
The willinger I go, nor much expect 
A foe so proud will first the weaker seek ; 
So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse." 

Thus saying, from her husband's hand her hand 
Soft she withdrew, and, like a wood-nymph light- 
Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's train, 1 
Betook her to the groves; but Delia's sel/ 
In gait surpassed, and goddess-like deport, 
Though not as she with bow and quiver armed, 
But with such gardening tools as art yet rude, 
Guiltless of fire, had formed, or angels brought. 
To Pales, 2 or Pomona, thus adorned, 
Iikest she seemed ; Pomona when she fled 
Vertumnus, or to Ceres in her prime, 
Yet virgin of Proserpina 3 from Jove. 
Her long with ardent look his eye pursued 
Delighted, but desiring more her stay 
Oft he to her his charge of quick return 
Repeated ; she to him as oft engaged 
To be returned by noon amid the bower, 
And all things in best order to invite 
Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose 
much deceived, much failing, hapless E ve, 
Of thy presumed return ! event perverse ! 
Thou never from that hour in Paradise 
Found'st either sweet repast, or sound repose ; 
Such ambush, hid among sweet flowers and shade?, 
Waited with hellish rancour imminent 
To intercept thy way, or send thee back 
Despoiled of innocence, of faith, of bliss. 
For now, and since first break of dawn, the fiend, 
Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come, 
And on his quest, where likeliest he might find 
The only two of mankind, but in them 

1 Compare th? descriptions in Homer, Od. vi. 102, sqq. ; Vitfi 
oiln. i. 498, sqq. 
1 The goddess of shepherds. 
8 1. e. not yet become the mother of Proserpine 



H } 



*&H 



214 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 414-4 **. 

The whole included race, his purposed prey. 

In bower and held he sought, where any tuft 

Of grove or garden-plot more pleasant lay, 

Their tendance or plantation for delight; 

By fountain or by shady rivulet 

He sought them both, but wished his hap might find 

Eve separate; he wished, but not with hope 

Of what so seldom chanced; when to his wish, 

Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies, 

Veiled in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood, 

Half spied, so thick the roses blushing round 

About her glowed, oft stooping to support 

Each flower of slender stalk, whose head, though gay 

Carnation, j)urple, azure, or specked with gold, 

Hung drooping unsustained ; them she upstays 

Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while 

Herself, though fairest unsupported flower, 

From her best prop so far, and storm so nigh. 

Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed 

Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm, 

Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen 

Among thick-woven arborets and flowers 

Embordered on each bank, the hand of Eve : l 

Spot more delicious than those gardens feigned 

Or of revived Adonis, 2 or renowned 

Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son; 

1 " Emborderod on eacli bank," the banks were bordered wilt 
the flowers; " the hand of Eve," the handiwork of Eve, as we say of & 
picture that it is the hand of such or such a master. 

2 " Of revived Adonis ; " for after he was killed by the wild boar, 
it is said that, at Venus's request, he was restored to life. And wp 
read that his anniversary festival was opened with sorrow an<v 
mourning for his death, and concluded with singing and rejoicing foi 
his revival. Jt is very true, as Bentley says, that " the gardens of 
Adonis," so frequently mentioned by Greek writers, were nothing 
but portable earthen pots with some lettuce or fennel growing in 
them, and thrown away the next day after the yearly festival of 
Adonis; whence " the gardens of Adonis" grew to be a proverb of 
contempt for any fruitless, fading, perishable affair. But, as Pearce 
roplies, why did the Grecians on Adonis's festival carry these small 
earthen gardens about in honour of him ? was it not because they had 
a tradition, that when he was alive he delighted in gardens, and had 
a magnificent one ? Pliny mentions the gardens of " Adonis " and 
" Alcinous" together as Milton docs. There is nothing that the 
ancients admired more than the gardens of the Hesperides, and 
those of file Icings Adonis and Alcinous. — Newto?\ 



4 



•* 



b. ix. 442-482. PARADISE LOST. 215 



Or that, not mystic, 1 where the sapient king 3 
Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse 
Much he the place admired, the person morq 
As one who long in populous city pent, 
Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air. 
Forth issuing on a summer's morn to hreathe 
Among the pleasant villages and farms 
Adjoined, from each thiug met conceives delight : 
The smell of grain, or tedded 3 grass, or kine, 
Or dahy, each rural sight, each rural sound; 
If chance with nymph-like step fair virgin pass, 
What pleasing seemed, for her now pleases more, 
She most, and in her look sums all delight : 
Such pleasure took the serpent to behold 
This flowery plat, the sweet recess of Eve, 
Thus early, thus alone ; her heavenly form 
Angelic, but more soft and feminine ; 
Her graceful innocence, her every air 
Of gesture, or least action, overawed 
His malice, and with rapine sweet bereaved 
His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought 
That space the evil one abstracted stood 
From his own evil, and for the time remained 
Stupidly good, of enmity disarmed, 
Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge ; 
But the hot Hell that always in him burns, 
Though in mid Heaven, soon ended his delight, 
And tortures him now more, the more he sees 
Of pleasure not for him ordained : then soon 
Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts 
Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites : 

" Thoughts, whither have ye led me ! with what s"veH 
Compulsion thus transported to forget 
What hither brought us ! hate, not love ; nor hope 
Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste 
Of pleasure ; but all pleasure to destroy, 
Save what is in destroying ; other joy 
To me is lost Then let me not let pass 
Occasion which now smiles ; behold alon9 
The woman, opportune to all attempts ; 
Her husband, for I view far round, not nigh. 



1 i. e. not fabulous or allegorical, but reaL 

2 Solomon. Cf. Canticles, passim. 
* Mowed and spread out to dyy. 



■$• 



+4h 



216 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 483—514 



Whose higher intellectual more I shun, 

And strength, of courage haughty, and of limb 

Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould ; 

Foe not informidable ; exempt from wound, 

I not ; so much hath Hell debased, and pain 

Enfeebled me, to what I was in Heaven. 

She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods; 

Not terrible, though terror be in love 

And beauty, not approached by stronger hate, 

Hate stronger, under show of love well feigned; 

The way which to her ruin now I tend." 

So spake the enemy of mankind enclosed 
In serpent, inmate bad ! and toward Eve 
Addressed his way, not with indented wave, 
Prone on the ground, as since, but on his rear, 
Circular base of rising folds that towered 
Fold above fold, a surging maze, his head 
Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes; 
Witl: burnished neck of verdant gold, erect 
Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass 
Floated redundant : pleasing was his shape, 
And lovely ; never since of serpent kind 
Lovelier, not those that in Illyria changed 
Hermione l and Cadmus, or the god 
In Epidaurus* ; nor to which transformed 
Ammonian Jove, 3 or Capitoline, was seen ; 
He with Olympias; this with her who bore 
Scipio the height of Rome. With tract oblique 
At first, as one who sought access, but feared 
To interrupt, sidelong he works his way, 
As when a ship by skilful steersman wrought 
Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind 
Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail : 
So varied he, and of his tortuous train 

Or Harmonia, the wife of Cadmus. 

* iEsculapius, who is to have taken the form of a serpent when be 
appeared at Rome during a pestilence. 

3 Jupiter Ammon and Jupiter Capitolinus, the one the Lybian 
Jupiter, the other the Roman, called " Capitoline," from the Capitol, 
his temple at Rome. " He with Olympias," the first the pretended 
father of Alexander the Great, conversing with his mother Olympias 
in the form of a serpent; " this with her who bore Scipio the height 
Df Rome," the latter fabled in like manner to have been the father 0/ 
Scipio Africanus, who raised bis country and himself to the higher 
pitei* of g'ory— Newton, 



<> 



t 



*A 



B . ix. 517-557. PARADISE LOST. 217 

Curled many a wanton wreacn in sight of Eve, 
To line her eye ; she busied heard the sound 
Of rustling leaves, hut minded not, as used 
To such disport before her through the field, 
From every beast, more duteous at her call 
Than at Circean call 1 the herd disguised. 
He, bolder now, uncalled before her stood, 
But as in gaze admiring : oft he bowed 
His turret crest, and sleek enamelled neck, 
Fawning, and licked the ground whereon she trod 
His gentle dumb expression turned at length 
The eye of Eve to mark his play ; he, glad 
Of her attention gained, with serpent tongue 
Organic, or impulse of vocal air, 
His fraudulent temptation thus began : 

" Wonder not, sovran mistress, if perhaps 
Thou canst, who art sole wonder; much less arm 
Thy looks, the heaven of mildness, with disdain, 
Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze 
Insatiate, I thus single, nor have feared 
Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired. 
Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair, 
Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore 
With ravishment beheld, there best beheld 
Where universally admired ; but here 
In this enclosure wild, these beasts among, 
Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
Half what in thee is fair, one man except, 
Who sees thee? (and what is one ?) who should st be seer. 
A goddess among gods, adored and served 
By angels numberless, thy daily train " 

So glozed the tempter, and his proem tuned ; 
Into the heart of Eve his words made way, 
Though at the voice much marvelling ; at length. 
Not unamazed, she thus in answer spake : 

" What may this mean ? language of man pronounces 
By tongue of brute, and human sense expressed \ 
The first, at least, of these I thought denied 
To beasts, whom God on their creation-day 
Created mute to all articulate sound ; 

♦ All "beasts of the field used to play and sport before Ler ; mors 
obedient to her voice, than men turned into beasts by the famous 
enchantress Circe, were at her heck. Ovid Metam. xiv. 45- 



<j> 



. 



f 



T 



218 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 558-598. 

The latter I demur, for in tlieir looks 
Much reason, and in their actions oft appears. 
Thee, serpent, subtlest beast of all the Held 
I knew, but not with human voice endued; 
Redouble then this miracle, and say, 
How cam'st thou speakable of mute, and how 
To me so friendly grown above the rest 
Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight: 
Say, for such wonder claims attention due." 

To whom the guileful tempter thus replied: 
" Empress of this fair world, resplendent Eve, 
Easy to me it is to tell thee all 

What thou command' st, and right thou shoiJdst be obeyed 
I was at first as other beasts that graze 
The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low, 
As was my food ; nor aught but food discerned 
Or sex, and apprehended nothing high : 
Till on a day, roving the field, I chanced 
A goodly tree far distant to behold 
Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixed, 
Ruddy and gold : I nearer drew to gaze ; 
When from the boughs a savoury odour blown, 
Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense 
Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats 
Of ewe or goat 1 dropping with milk at even, 
Unsucked of lamb or kid, that tend their play 
To satisfy the sharp desire I had 
Of tasting those fan apples, I resolved 
Not to defei ; hunger and tliirst at once, 
Powerful persuaders, quickened at the scent 
Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. 
About the mossy trunk I wound me soon, 
For high from ground the branches would require 
Thy utmost reach or Adam's: round the tree 
All other beasts that saw, with like desire 
Longing and envying stood, but could not reach 
Amid the tree qow got, where plenty hung 
Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill 
I spared not ; for such pleasure, till that hour, 
At feed or fountain never had I found. 
Sated at length, ere long I might perceive 



1 Fennel was a favourite food with serpents, who we*e also sup 
\ used to suck the teats of ewes and goats. 



*<3>- 






b. ix. 599-642. PARADISE LOST. 219 

Strange alteration in me, to degree 

Of reason in my inward powers, and speech 

Wanted not long, though to this shape retained. 

Thenceforth to speculations high or deep 

I turned my thoughts, and with capacious mind 

Considered all tilings visible in Heaven, 

Or earth, or middle, all things fair and good ; 

But all that fair and good in thy divine 

Semblance, and in thy beauty's heavenly ray, 

United I beheld; no fair to thine 

Equivalent or second, which compelled 

Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come 

And gaze, and worship thee of right declared 

Sovran of creatures, universal dame." 

So talked the spirited sly snake ; and Eve, 
Yet more amazed, unwary thus replied : 

" Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt 
The virtue of that fruit, in thee first proved ; 
But say, where grows the tree, from hence how far? 
For many are the trees of God that grow 
In Paradise, and various, yet unknown 
To us, in such abundance lies our choice, 
As leaves a greater store of fruit untouched, 
Still hanging incorruptible, till men 
Grow up to their provision, and more hands 
Help to disburden nature of her birth." 

To whom the wily adder, blithe and glad : 
" Empress, the way is ready, and not long ; 
Beyond a row of myrtles, on a flat, 
Fast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
Of blowing myrrh and balm . if thou accept 
My conduct, 1 can bring thee thither soon." 

" Lead then," said Eve. He, leading, swiftly railed 
In tangles, and made intricate seem straight, 
To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy 
Brightens his crest ; as when a wandering fire, 
Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night 
Condenses, and the cold environs round 
Kindled through agitation to a flame, 
Which eft, they say, some evil spirit attends, 
Hovering and blazing with delusive light, 
Misleads the amazed night-wanderer from his way 
To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool"; 
There swallowed ivd and lost, from succour far. 



♦4 



•Hb^ 1 



KJK 



■4 



**?*■ 



220 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 643-683. 

So glistered the dire snake, and into fraud' 

Led Eve our credulous mother, to the tree 

Of prohibition, 2 root of all our woe; 

Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake : 

" Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither, 
Fruitless to me, though fruit he here to excess, 
The credit of whose virtue rest with thee, 
Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects. 
But of this tree we may not taste nor touch , 
God so commanded, and left that command 
Sole daughter of his voice ; 3 the rest, we live 
Law to ourselves ; our reason is our law." 

To whom the tempter guilefully replied : 
" Indeed ! hath God then said that of the fruit 
Of all these garden trees ye shall not eat, 
Yet lords declared of all in earth or air?" 

To whom thus Eve, yet sinless : " Of the fruit 
Of each tree in the garden we may eat, 
But of the fruit of this fair tree amidst 
The garden, God hath said, ' Ye shall not eat 
Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die.'" 

She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold 
The temptei , but with show of zeal and love 
To man, and indignation a,t his wrong, 
New part puts on ; and, as to passion moved, 
Fluctuates disturbed, yet comely and in act 
Raised, as of some great matter to begin 
As when of old some orator renowned 
In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 
Flourished, since mute, to some great cause addressed, 
£tood in himself collected, while each part, 
Motion, each act, won audience ere the tongue, 
.sometimes in height began, as no delay 
Of preface brooking through, his zeal of right. 
So standing, moving, or to height up-grown, 
The tempter, all impassioned, thus began : 

" sacred, wise, and wisdom-giving plant, 
Mother of science ! now I feel thy power 
Within me clear, not only to discern 
Things in their causes, but to trace the ways 
Of highest agents, deemed however wise. 

1 Harm, damage. 2 An Hebraism for " the forbidden tree." 

3 Also an Hebrew expression, tbe bathJcol, signifying any mysterious 
kuee, supposed to proceed from Heaven. 



4 



*<th 



b. ix. 684-727. PARADISE LOST. 2; 

Queen of this universe, do not believe 

Those rigid threats of death. Ye shall not die ! 

How should ye ? By the fruit ? It gives you life 

To knowledge. By the threatener ? Look on me, 

Me who have touched and tasted, yet both live, 

And life more perfect have attained than fate 

Meant me, by venturing higher than my lot. 

Shall that be shut to man, which to the beast 

Is open? or will God incense his ire 

For such a petty trespass ? and not praise 

Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain 

Of death denounced, whatever thing death be, 

Deterred not from achieving what might lead 

To happier life, knowledge of good and evil ; 

Of good, how just ? of evil, if what is evil 

Be real, why not known, since easier shunned? 

God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just; 

Not just, not God; not feared then, nor obeyed : 

Your fear itself of death removes the fear 

Why then was this forbid ? Why, but to awe ? 

Why, but to keep ye low and ignorant, 

His worshippers ? He knows that in the day 

Ye eat thereof, your eyes, that seem so clear 

Yet are but dim, shall perfectly be then 

Opened and cleared, and ye shall be as gods, 

Knowing both good and evil as they know. 

That ye shall be as gods, since I as man> 

Internal man, is but proportion meet : 

I of brute human, ye of human gods. 

So ye shall die, perhaps, by putting off 

Human, to put on gods ; death to be wished, 

Though threatened, which no worse than this can brim 

And what are gods that man may not become 

As they, participating godlike food ? 

The gods are first, and that advantage use 

On our belief that all from them proceeds; 

I question it ; for this fan earth I see, 

Wanned by the sun, producing eveiy kind, 

Them nothing : if they all things, who enclosed 

Knowledge of good and evil in this tree, 

That whoso eats thereof forthwith attains 

Wisdom without their leave ? and wherein lies 

The offence, that man should thus attain to know 2 

What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree 



•A* 



— Q» 



222 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 728-771. 

Impart against his will, if all be his ? 
Or is it envy ? and can envy dwell 
In heavenly breasts ? These, these and many more 
Causes import your need of this fair fruit, 
Goddess humane : reach then, and freely taste." 
He ended ; and his words, replete with guile, 
Into her heart too easy entrance won : 
Fixed on the fruit she gazed, which to behold 
Might tempt alone, and in her ears the sound 
Yet rung of his persuasive words impregned 
With reason, to her seeming, and with truth ; 
Meanwhile the hour of noon drew on, and waked 
An eager appetite, raised by the smell 
So savoury of that fruit, which with desire, 



*Y 



Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, 
Solicited her longing eye ; yet first 
Pausing a while, thus to herself she mused : 

" Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits, 
Though kept from man, and worthy to be admired, 
Whose taste, too long forborne, at first assay 
Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise ■ 
Thy praise He also who forbids thy use, 
Conceals not from us, naming thee the tree 
Of knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil , 
Forbids us then to taste, but his forbidding 
Commends thee more, while it infers the good 
By thee communicated, and our want : 
For good unknown sine is not had ; or, had 
And yet unknown, is as not had at all 
In plain, then, what forbids He but to know 
Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise ? 
Such prohibitions bind not. B ut if death 
Bind us with after-bands, what profits then 
Our inward freedom ? In the day we eat 
Of this fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die. 
How dies the serpent ? he hath eaten and lives, 
And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns, 
Irrational till then. For us alone 
Was death invented ? or to us denied 
This intellectual food, for beasts reserved '? 
For beasts, it seems : yet that one beast which firs* 
Hath tasted, envies not, but brings with joy 
The good befallen him, author unsuspect, 



4 



H+H 



.*♦ 



*4>* 



ix. 772-S15. PARADISE LOST. 223 

Friendly to man, far from deceit or guile. 

What fear I, then ? rather, what know to fear 

Under this ignorance of good and evil, 

Of God or death, of law or penalty ? 

Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, 

fair to the eye, inviting to the taste, 

Of virtue to make wise : what hinders then 

To reach, and feed at once hoth "body and mind?" 

So saying, her rash hand in evil hour 
Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she ate : 
Earth felt the wound, and nature from her seat, 
Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe, 
That all was lost. Back to the thicket slunk 
The guilty serpent; and well might ; for Eve, 
Intent now wholly on her taste, nought else 
Regarded ; such delight till then, as seemed, 
In fruit she never tasted, whether true 
Or fancied so, through expectation high 
Of knowledge ; nor was godhead from her thought 
Greedily she engorged without restraint, 
And knew not eating death ; satiate at length, 
And heightened as with wine, jocund and boon, 
Thus to herself she pleasingly hegan : 

" sovran, virtuous, precious of all trees 
In Paradise ! of operation blest 
To sapience, hitherto obscured, infamed, 
And thy fan- fruit let hang, as to no end 
Created ; hut henceforth my early care, 
Not without song, each morning, and due praise. 
Shall tend thee, and the fertile burden ease 
Of thy full branches offered free to all ; 
Till, dieted by thee, I grow mature 
In knowledge, as the gods who all things know. 
Though others envy what they cannot give ; 
For had the gift been theirs, it had not here 
Thus grown. Experience, nexx to thee I owe, 
Best guide ; not following thee, I had remained 
In ignorance ; thou open'st wisdom's way, 
And giv'st access, though secret she retire. 
And I perhaps am secret; Heaven is high, 
High, and remote to see from thence distinct 
Each thing on earth ; and other care perhaps 
May have diverted from continual watch 
Our great Forbidder, safe w ; th ull his spies 



•:, 



■$* 



224 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 816-858. 

About hLm. But to Adam in what sort 
Shall I appear ? shall I to him make known 
As yet my change, and give him to partake 
Full happiness with me, or rather not, 
But keep the odds of knowledge in my power 
Without co-partner? so to add what wai.t3 
In female sex, the more to draw his love, 
And render me more equal, and, perhaps, 
A thing not undesirable, sometime 
Superior ; for inferior who is free ? 
This may he well; but what if God have seen. 
And death ensue ? then I shall he no more, 
And Adam, wedded to another Eve, 
Shall live with her enjoying, I extinct* 
A death to think ! Confirmed then I resolve, 
Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe : 
So dear I love him, that with him all deaths 
I could endure, without him live no life." 

So saying, from the tree her step she turned, 
But first low reverence done, as to the power 
That dwelt within, whose presence had infused 
Into the plant sciential sap, derived 
From nectar, drink of gods. Adam the while, 
Waiting desirous her return, had wove 
Of choicest flowers a garland to adorn 
Her tresses, and her rural labours crown, 
As reapers oft are wont their harvest queen. 
Great joy he promised to his thoughts, and new 
Solace in her return, so long delayed ; 
Yet oft his heart, divine * of some tiling ill, 
Misgave him ; he the faltering measure felt ; 
And forth to meet her went, the way she took 
That morn wljen first they parted ; by the tree 
Of knowledge he must pass, there he her met, 
Scarce from the tree returning ; in her hand 
A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smiled, 
New gathered, and ambrosial smell diffused. 
To him she hasted ; in her face excuse 
Came prologue, and apology too prompt, 
Which with bland words at will she thus addresspd 

" Hast thou not wondered, Adam, at my stay ? 
Thee I have missed, and thought it long, deprived 
Thy presence ; agony of love till now 
1 s. e. prescient foreboding. 



"T" 



<> 



*&• 



k ix. 859-902. PARADISE LOST. 22$ 

Not ielt, nor shall be twice ; for never more 

Mean I to try, what rash un tried I sought, 

The pain of absence from thy sight. But strange 

Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear : 

This tree is not, as we are told, a tree 

Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown 

Opening the way, but of divine effect 

To open eyes, and make them gods who taste ; 

And hath been tasted such : the serpent wise, 

Or not restrained as we, or not obeying, 

Hath eaten of the fruit, and is become, 

Not dead, as we are threatened, but thenceforth 

Endued with human voice and human sense, 

Reasoning to admiration ; and with me 

Persuasively hath so prevailed, that I 

Have also tasted, and have also found 

The effects to correspond: opener mine eyes, 

Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart, 

Ar. <1 growing up to godhead, whicli for thee 

Chiefly 1 sought, without thee can des]:>ise. 

For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss ; 

Tedious, unshared with thee, and odious soon 

Thou therefore also taste, that equal lot 

May join us, equal joy as equal love ; 

Lest, thou not tasting, different degree 

Disjoin us, and I then, too late, renounce 

Deity for thee, when fate will not permit." 

Thus Eve, with countenance blithe, her story toU 
But in her cheek distemper flushing glowed. 
On the other side, Adam, soon as he heard 
The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, 
Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill 
Ran through his veins, and all his joints relaxed ; 
From his slack hand the garland wreathed for Evi 
Down dropped, and all the faded roses shed. 
Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length 
First to himself he inward silence broke : 

fairest of creation, last and best 
Oi all God's works, creature in whom excelled 
Whatever can to sight or thought be formed, 
Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet, 
How art thou lost ! how on a sudden lost, 
Defaced, deflowered, and now to death devote ] 
Rather, how hast thon vielded to transgress 



•f 



> 



♦A 



*<gH 



^h 



226 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 903-546., 



The strict forbiddance, how to violate 

The sacred fruit forbidden ! Some cursed fraud 

Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown, 

And me with thee hath ruined, for with thee 

Certain my resolution is to die ; 

How can I live without thee? how forego 

Thy sweet converse and love so dearly joined, 

To live again in these wild woods forlorn ? 

Should God create another Eve, and 1 

Another rib afford, yet loss of thee 

Would never from my heart ; no, no ! I feel 

The link of nature draw me; flesh of flesh, 

Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state 

Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe." 

So having said, as one from sad dismay 
Recomforted, and after thoughts disturbed 
Submitting to what seemed remediless 
Thus in calm mood his words to Eve he turned : 

" Bold deed thou hast presumed, adventurous Eve,. 
And peril great provoked, who thus hast dared, 
Had it been only coveting to eye 
That sacred fruit, sacred to abstinence; 
Much more to taste it under ban to touch 
But past who can recall, or done undo ? 
Not God omnipotent, nor fate ; yet so 
Perhaps thou shalt not die, perhaps the fact 
Is not so heinous now, foretasted fruit, 
Profaned first by the serpent, by him first 
Made common and unh allowed ere our taste ; 
Nor yet on him found deadly ; he yet lives ; 
Lives, as thou saidst, and gains to live, as mau t 
Higher degree of life : inducement strong 
To us, as likely tasting to attain 
Proportional ascent, which cannot be 
But to be gods, or angels, demi-gods. 
Nor can I think that God, Creator wise, 
Though threatening, will in earnest so destroy . 
Us his prime creatures, dignified so high, 
Set over all his works, which in our fall, 
For us created, needs with us must fail, 
Dependent made; so God shall uncreate, 
Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose : 
Not well conceived of God, who, though his pawl. 
^ v «<UJon c^d repeat, yet w^uld be loth 



+& 



b. ix.947--99o. PARADISE LOST. 227 

Us to abolish, lest the adversary 

Triumph and say, ' Fickle their state whom God 

Most favours ; who can please him long? Me fires 

He ruined, now mankind ; whom will he next?' 

Matter of scorn, not to he given the foe. 

However, I with thee have fixed my lot, 

Certain to undergo like doom ; if death 

Consort with thee, death is to me as life ; 

So forcible within my heart I feel 

The bond of nature draw me to my own, 

My own in thee, for what thou art is mine, 

Our state cannot be severed ; we are one, 

One flesh ; to lose thee were to lose myself." 

So Adam, and thus Eve to him replied : 
" glorious trial of exceeding love, 
Illustrious evidence, example high ! 
Engaging me to emulate; but, short 
Of thy perfection, how shall I attain, 
Adam, from whose dear side I boast me sprung ? 
And gladly of our union hear thee speak, 
One heart, one soul in both ; whereof good proof 
This day affords, declaring thee resolved, 
Rather than death, or aught than death more die a? 
Shall separate us, linked in love so dear, 
To undergo with me one guilt, one crime, 
If any be, of tasting this fair fruit, 
Whose virtue (for of good still good proceeds, 
Direct, or by occasion) hath presented 
This happy trial of thy love, which else 
So eminently never had been known. 
Were it I thought death menaced would ensue 
This my attempt, I would sustain alone 
The worst, and not persuade thee ; rather die 
Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact 
Pernicious to thy peace, chiefly assured, 
Kemarkably so late of thy so true, 
So faithful love unequalled : but I feel 
Ear otherwise the event ; not death, but life 
Augmented, opened eyes, new hopes, new joys, 
Taste so divine, that what of sweet before 
Hath touched my sense, flat seems to this an J harsh 
On my experience, Adam, freely taste, 
And fear of death deliver to the winds" 

So saying, she -embraced him. and for joy 



•f> 



223 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. ■. ix. 991-1014. 

Tenderly wept; much won, that he his love 

Had si ennobled, as of choice to incur 

!)ivina displeasure for her sake, or death. 

In recompense (for such compliance bad 

Such recompense best merits) from the bough 

She gave him of that fair enticing fruit 

With liberal hand : he scrupled not to eat, 

Against his better knowledge ; not deceived, 

But fondly overcome with female charm. 

Earth trembled from her entrails, as again 

In pangs, and nature gave a second groan ; 

Sky loured; and, muttering thunder, some sad drops 

Wept at completing of the mortal sin 

Original ; while Adam took no thought, 

Eating his fill, nor Eve to iterate 

Her former trespass feared, the more to soothe 

Him with her loved society; that now, 

As with new wine intoxicated both, 

They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel 

Divinity within them breeding wings 

Wherewith to scorn the earth : but that false fruit 

Far other operation first displayed, 

Carnal desire inflaming ; he on Eve 

Began to cast lascivious eyes, she him 

As wantonly repaid ; in lust they burn : 

Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move; 

" Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste, 
And elegant, of sapience no small part, 
Since to each meaning savour we apply, 
And palate call judicious : I the praise 
Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purveyed. 
Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstained 
rrom this delighful fruit, nor known till now 
True relish, tasting ; if such pleasure be 
In things to us forbidden, it might be wished 
For this one tree had been forbidden ten. 
But come, so well refreshed, now let us play, 
A.s meet if, after such delicious fare; 
For never did thy beauty, since the day 
\ saw thee first and wedded thee, adorned 
PVith all perfections, so inflame my sense 
With ardour to enjoy thee, fairer now 
Than ever, bounty of this virtuous tree." 

So said he, and forbore net glance or to.v 



«4>. 



••/*■ 



♦■ 



O 4 — -4>* 

b. ix. 1035-1077. PARADISE LOST. 229 

Of amorous intent, well understood 

Of Eve, whose eye darted contagions fire. 

Her hand he seized, and to a shady bank, 

Thick over-head with verdant roof embowered. 

He led her nothing loth ; flowers were the couch, 

Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, 

And hyacinth, earth's freshest, softest lap. 

There they their fill of love and love's disport 

Took largely, of their mutual guilt the seal, 

The solace of their sin ; till dewy sleep 

Oppressed them, wearied with their amorous }iia* 

Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit, 
That with exhilarating vapour bland 
About their spirits had played, and inmost powers 
Made err, was now exhaled ; and grosser sleep, 
Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 
Encumbered, now had left them ; up they rose 
As from unrest, and each the other viewing, 
Soon found their eyes how opened, and their minds 
How darkened ; innocence, that as a veil 
Had shadowed them from knowing ill. was gone, 
Just confidence, and native righteousness, 
And honour from about them, naked left 
To guilty shame; he 1 covered, but his robe 
Uncovered more. So rose the Danite strong, 
Herculean Samson, from the harlot-lap 
Of Pliilistean Dalilah, and waked 
Shorn of his strength; they destitute and bare 
Of all their virtue : silent, and in face 
Confounded, long they sat, as strucken mute ; 
Till Adam, though not less than Eve abashed, 
At length gave utterance to these words constrained 

" Eve ! in evil horn thou didst give ear 
To that false worm, of whomsoever taught 
To counterfeit man's voice, true in our fall, 
False in our promised rising; since our eyes 
Opened we find indeed, and find we know 
Both good and evil ; good lost, and evil got: 
Bad fruit of knowledge, if this be to know, 
Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void, 
Of innocence, of faith, of purity, 
Our wonted ornaments now soiled and stained 
And in our faces evident the signa 
1 <w f. shame. 

*^~ _____ __, . — ^ 



+&* 



: 3 o 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b.ix. 1078-1120. 



Of foul concupiscence ; whence evil store ; 
Even shame, the last of evils ; of the first 
Be sure then. How shall I behold the face 
Henceforth of God or angel, erst with joy 
And rapture so oft beheld? those heavenly shapes 
Will dazzle now this earthly with their blaze 
Insufferably bright. Oh! might I here 
In solitude live savage, in some glade 
Obscured, where highest woods, impenetrable 
To star or sunlight, spread their umbrage 1 broad 
And brown as evening: cover me, ye pines! 
Ye cedars, with innumerable boughs 
Hide me, where I may never see them more ! 
But let us now, as in bad plight, devise 
What best may for the present serve to hide 
The parts of each from other, that seem most 
To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen ; 
Some tree, whose broad smooth leaves together sevnd 
And girded on our loins, may cover round 
Those middle parts, that this new comer, shame, 
There sit not, and reproach us as unclean." 
So counselled he, and both together went 
Into the thickest wood ; there soon they choc« 
The fig-tree, not that land for fruit renowned, 
But such as at this day to Indians known 
In Malabar or Deccan spreads her arms 
Branching so broad and long, that in the ground 
The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 
About the mother tree, a pillared shade 
High overarched, and echoing walks between ; 
There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat, 
Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds 
At loopholes cut through thickest shade : those leaver 
They gathered, broad as Amazonian targe, 
And, with what skill they had, together sewed, 
To gird their waist : vain covering, if to hide 
Their guilt and dreaded shame ! Oh, how unlike 
To that first naked glory ! Such of late 
Columbus found the American, so girt 
With feathered cincture, naked else and wild 
Among the trees on isles and woody shores. 
Thus fenced, and as they thought, their shame in pait 
Covered, but not at rest or ease of mind, 
1 Shadow- 



4 



(Ki — i m - 



nt. nai-iit,. PARADISE LOST. 231 

They sat them down to weep ; nor only tears 
Rained at their eyes, but high winds worse within 
Began to rise, high passions, anger, hate, 
Mistrust, suspicion, discord ; and shook sore 
Their inward state of mind, calm region once 
And full of peace, now tossed and turbulent; 
For understanding ruled not, and the will 
Heard not her lore, both in subjection now 
To sensual appetite, who from beneath 
Usurping over sovran reason claimed 
Superior sway. From thus distempered breast, 
Adam, estranged in look and altered style, 
Speech intermitted thus to Eve renewed : 

" Would thou hadst hearkened to my woids, and sU';y*>fl 
With me, as I besought thee, when that strange 
Desire of wandering, this unhappy morn, 
I know not whence possessed thee ; we had then 
Remained still happy, not as now, despoiled 
Of all our good, shamed, naked, miserable. 
Let none henceforth seek needless cause to approve 
The faith they owe ; when earnestly they seek 
Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail." 

To whom, soon moved with touch of blame, thus Eve 
" What words have passed thy lips? Adam severe, 
Imput'st thou that to my default, or will 
Of wandering, as thou call's t it, which, who knows 
But might as ill have happened thou being by, 
Or to thyself, perhaps? Hadst thou been there, 
Or here the attempt, thou couldst not have discerned 
Fraud in the serpent, speaking as he spake , 
No ground of enmity between us known, 
Why he should mean me ill, or seek to harm ,' 
Was I to have never parted from thy side ? 
As good have grown there still a lifeless rib 
Being as I am, why didst not thou, the bead, 
Command me absolutely not to go, 
Going into such danger as thou saidst? 
Too facile then, thou didst not much gainsay. 
Nay, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss, 
Hadst thou been firm and fixed in thy dissent, 
Neither had I transgressed, nor thou with me * 

To whom, then first incensed, Adam replied: 
" Is this the love, is this the recompense 
Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve ! expressed 



J** 



■fr 



*& 



*&. 



232 MILTON'S FOETICAL WORKS, b. ix. 1165-1189 

Immutable when thou wert lost, not I, 

Who might have lived and joyed immortal bliss, 

Yet willingly chose rather death with thee? 

And am I now upbraided as the cause 

Of thy transgressing ? Not enough severe, 

it seems, in thy restraint: what could I more? 

1 warned thee, I admonished thee, foretold 

" lie danger, and the lurking enemy 

I'll at lay in wait; beyond this had been force, 

And force upon free will hath here no plaes. 

But confidence then bore thee on, secure 

Either to meet no danger, or to find 

Matter of glorious trial; and perhaps 

[ also erred in overmuch admiring 

What seemed in thee so perfect, that I thought 

No evil durst attempt thee ; but I rue 

That error now, which is become my crime, 

And thou the accuser. Thus it shall befall 

Him who, to worth in woman overtrustlng, 

Lets her will rule ; restraint she will not brook; 

And, left to herself, if evil thence ensue, 

She first his weak indulgence will accuse." 

Thus they in mutual accusation spent 
The fruitless hours, but neither self condemning 
luid of their vaio contest appeared no end, 



:1'D 2 IKE NIN1M I-OHK. 



& 



«A., *o^ 

b.x. i-.s. PARADISE LOST. 233 



BOOK X. 



THE AB6UMENT. 

S fan's transgression known, the guardian angels forsake Paradise, 
and return up to Heaven to approve their vigilance, and are ap- 
proved ; God declaring that the entrance of Satan could not by 
them be prevented. He sends his Son to judge the transgressors, 
who descends, and gives sentence accordingly ; then in pity clothes 
them both, and reascends. Sin and Death, sitting till then at the 
gates of Hell, by wondrous sympathy feeling the success of Satan 
in this new world, and the sin by man there committed, resolve to 
sit no longer confined in Heli, but to follow Satan, their sire, unto 
the place of man. To make the way easier from Hell to this world, 
to and fro, they pave a broad highway or bridge over Chaos, accord- 
ing to the track that Satan first made ; then preparing for earth, they 
meet him, proud of his success, returning to Hell ; their mutual 
gratulation. Satan arrives at Pandemonium ; in full assembly 
relates with boasting his success against man ; instead of applause 
is treated with a general hiss by all his audience, transformed with 
himself also suddenly into serpents, according to his doom given in 
Paradise ; then deluded with a show of the forbidden tree springing 
up before them, they, greedily reaching to take of the fruits, chew 
dust and bitter ashes. The proceedings of Sin and Death ; God 
foretells the final victory of his Son over them, and the renewing of 
all things ; but for the present commands his angels to make 
several alterations in the heavens and elements. Adam more and 
mere perceiving his fallen condition, heavily bewails, rejects the 
condolement of Eve ; she persists, and at length appeases him ; 
♦hen, to evade the curse likely to fall on their offspring, proposes to 
A.dam violent ways, which he approves not, but, conceiving better 
hope, puts her in mind of the late promise made them, that her 
6eed should be revenged on the serpent, and exhorts her with him 
to seek peace of the offended Deity, by repentance aud supplication. 

Meanwhile the heinous and despiteful act 

Of Satan done in Paradise, and how 

He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve, 

Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit," 

Was known in Heaven ; for what can 'scape the eyu 



4 



134 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. a.u.6- 4?. 

Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart 

Omniscient? who, in all things wise and just, 

Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind 

Of man, with strength entire, and free-will armed, 

Complete to have discovered and repulsed 

Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. 

For still they knew, and ought to have still remembered 

The high injunction not to taste that fruit, 

Whoever tempted ; which they not obeying, 

Incurred (what could they less?) the penalty, 

And, manifold in sin, deserved to fall. 

Up into Heaven from Paradise in haste 

The angelic guards ascended, mute and sad 

For man, for of his state by tins they knew, 

Much wondering how the subtle fiend had stolen 

Entrance unseen. Soon as tlie unwelcome news 

From earth arrived at Heaven-gate, displeased 

All were who heard ; dim sadness did not spare 

That time celestial visages, yet, mixed 

With pity, violated not their bliss. 

About the new-arrived, in multitudes 

The ethereal people ran, to hear and know 

How all befell : they towards the throne supreme 

Accountable made haste to make appear 

With righteous plea their utmost vigilance, 

And easily approved ; when the Most High, 

Eternal Father, from his secret cloud, 

Amidst in thunder uttered thus his voice : 

" Assembled angels, and ye powers returned 
From unsuccessful charge, be not dismayed 
Nor troubled at these tidings from the earth, 
Which your sincere st care could not prevent, 
foretold so lately what would come to pass, 
iVhen first this tempter crossed the gulf from Hell 
t told ye then 1 he should prevail and speed 
On his bad errand, man should be seduced 
And flattered out of all, believing lies 
Against his Maker ; no decree of mine 
Concurring to necessitate his fall, 
Or touch with lightest moment of impulse 
His free will, to her own inclining left 
In even scale. But fallen he is, and now 
What rests, but that the mortal sentence patsy 
1 See iii. 86— £>* 



fy ; . . ^ 



b.x. 49-86. PARADISE LOST. 235 

On his transgression, death denounced that day? 

Which he presumes already vain and void, 

Because not yet inflicted, as he feared, 

By some immediate stroke ; hut soon shall find 

Forbearance no acquittance 1 ere day end. 

Justice shall not return as bounty scorned. 

But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee, 

Vicegerent Son ? To thee I have transferred 

All judgment 3 whether in Heaven, or Earth, or Hell 

Easy it may be seen that I intend 

Mercy colleague with justice, sending thee 

Man's Mend, his Mediator, his designed 

Both ransom and Redeemer voluntary, 

And destined man himself to judge man fallen." 

So spake the Father, and unfolding bright 
Toward the right hand his glory, on the Son 
Blazed forth unclouded Deity ; he full 
Eesplendent all his Father manifest 
Expressed, and thus divinely answered mild : 

" Father eternal, thine is to decree, 
Mine both in Heaven and earth to do thy will 
Supreme, that thou in me thy Son beloved 
Mayst ever rest well pleased. I go to judge 
On earth these thy transgressors ; but thou know'st, 
"Whoever judged, the worst on me must light, 
When time shall be, for so I undertook 3 
Before thee ; and not repenting, this obtain 
Of right, that I may mitigate their doom 
On me derived ; yet I shall temper so 
Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most 
Theni fully satisfied, and thee appease. 
Attendance none shall need, nor train, where none 
Are to behold the judgment, but the judged, 
Those two ; the third best absent is condemned, 
Convict by flight, and rebel to all law : 
Conviction to the serpent none belongs." 

Thus saying, from his radiant seat he rose 
Of high collateral 4 glory : him thrones and powers, 

1 Compare the words of Sir Thomas More to his daughter, -when con- 
gratulating him on his escape : " In faith, Meg, what is put off is not 
given up — quod differ tus, non aufertur." — Gallery of Portraits, v. ii, p. 163. 

2 John, v. 22. 3 See iii. 236, sq. 

4 He uses " collateral," as he does most other words, in a sense 
?£reeable to the etymology, side by side. The Son sat at the ripht 



* 



"Cfh- 



^ 



236 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. *. x. 



Princedoms, and dominations ministrant, 

Accompanied to Heaven-gate, from whence 

Eden and all the coast in prospect lay. 

Down he descended straight ; the speed of gods 

Time counts not, though with swiftest minutes winged 

Now was the sun in western cadence low 

From noon, and gentle airs, due at their hour, 

To fan the earth now waked, and usher in 

The evening cool, when he, from wrath more cool, 

Came the mild Judge and Intercessor both, 

To sentence man : the voice of God they heard 

Now walking in the garden, by soft winds 

Brought to their ears, while day declined ; they heard, 

And from his presence hid themselves among 

The thickest trees, both man and wife ; till God, 

Approaching, thus to Adam called aloud : 

" Where art thou, Adam, wont with joy to meet 
My coming seen far off ? I miss thee here, 
Not pleased, thus entertained with solitude, 
Where obvious duty erewhile appeared unsought : 
Or come I less conspicuous, or what change 
Absents thee, or what chance detains ? Come forth ! " 

He came, and with him Eve, more loth, though first 
To offend ; discountenanced both, and discomposed ; 
Love was not in their looks, either to God 
Or to each other, but apparent guilt, 
And shame, and perturbation, and despair, 
Anger and obstinacy, and hate and guile. 
Whence Adam, faltering long, thus answered brief : 

" I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice 
Afraid, being naked, Md myself." To whom 
The gracious Judge without revile replied : 

" My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not feared, 
But still rejoiced ; how is it now become 
So dreadful to thee ? That thou art naked, who 
Hath told thee ? Hast thou eaten of the tree 
Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat?" 

To whom thus Adam, sore beset, replied : 
" Heaven ! in evil strait this day I stand 

nand of the Father ; and rising from thence, he may properly be sail 
to rise " from his seat of high collateral glory," or, as it is elsewhere 
expressed, vi. 747, " from the right hand of glory where he &at." Tb: 
word was used before, in viii. 426—- 

" Collateral love and dearest amity." Nwton, 

4- -A 



4* 



*. x. i2&-x66. PARADISE LOST. 2^ 



Before my Judge, either to undergo 

Myself the total crime, or to accuse 

My other self, the partner of my life ; 

Whose failing, while her faith (o me remains, 

I should conceal, and not expose to blame 

By my complaint ; but strict necessity 

Subdues me, and calamitous constraint, 

Lest on my head both sin and punishment, 

However insupportable, be all 

Devolved ; though should I hold my peace, yet thou 

Wouldst easily detect what I conceal. 

This woman, whom thou mad'st to be my help, 

And giv'st me as thy perfect gift so good, 

So fit, so acceptable, so divine, 

That from her hand I could suspect no ill, 

And what she did, whatever in itself, 

Her doing seemed to justify the deed : 

She gave me of the tree, and I did eat." 

To whom the sovran Presence thus replied : 
• Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey- 
Before his voice ? or was she made thy guide, 
Superior, or but equal, that to her 
Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place 
Wherein God set thee above her made of thee, 
A nd for thee, whose perfection far excelled 
Hers in all real dignity? Adorned 
She was indeed, and lovely to attract 
Thy love, not thy subjection ; and her gifts 
Were such as under government well seemed , 
Unseemly to bear rule, which was thy part 
<\.nd person, 1 hadst thou known thyself aright." 

So having said, he thus to Eve in few : 
" Say, woman, what is this which thou hast dono ?" 

To whom sad Eve, with shame nigh overwhelmed, 
Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge 
Bold or loquacious, thus abashed replied: 
"The serpent me beguiled, and I did eat." 

Which when the Lord God heard, without delay 
To judgment he proceeded on the accused 
Serpent, though brute, unable to transfer 
The guilt on him who made him instrument 

1 A Latinism, meaning the persona dramatis, the part or char&cU 1 
sustained. So in his History of England, p. 37: "If it ware 
bonour to that person which he sustained." — Richard jon. 

A, . (p . 



r 



*$• 



238 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, t. x. 167-20* 



Of mischief, and polluted from the end 
Of his creation, justly then accursed, 
As vitiated in nature : more to know 
Concerned not man (since he no further knew), 1 
Nor altered his offence ; yet God at last 
To Satan, first in sin, his doom applied, 
Though in mysterious terms, judged as then best ; 
And on the serpent thus his curse let fall: 

" Because thou hast done this, thou art accursed 
Above all cattle, each beast of the field; 
Upon thy belly grovelling thou shalt go, 
And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life. 
Between thee and the woman I will put 
Enmity, and between thine and her seed ; 
Her seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise Ms heel.' 

So spake this oracle, then verified 
When Jesus, son of Mary, second Eve, 
Saw Satan fall like lightning down from Heaven, 
Prince of the air ; then rising from his grave, 
Spoiled principalities and powers, triumphed 
In open show, and with ascension bright 
Captivity led captive through the ah-, 
The realm itself of Satan long usurped, 
Whom he shall tread at last under our feet ; 
Even he, who now foretold his fatal bruise ; 
And to the woman thus his sentence turned : 

" Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply 
By thy conception ; children thou shalt bring 
In sorrow forth ; and to thy husband's will 
Thine shall submit : he over thee shall rule." 

On Adam last thus judgment he pronounced : 
" Because thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy wife, 
And eaten of the tree concerning which 
I charged thee, saying, ' Thou shalt not eat thereof,' 
Cursed is the ground for thy sake : thou in sorrow 
Shalt eat thereof all the days of thy life ; 

1 This is badly expressed. The meaning is, as man was not to be 
et into the mystery of the redemption at this time, it did not concern 
him to know that the serpent was but the instrument of the devil. 
When Milton wrote this, I fancy he had it not then in his thoughts 
to make Michael reveal to Adam, in the last book, the doctrine of 
redemption ; or, if be did intend it, he forgot that a theological com- 
ment on those words in Genesis would ill agree with wbat was to 
follow.-^— Trarfacrton. 



<y ►*>♦ 



•ffw 



4* 



u.x. 203-244. PARADISE LOST. 239 

Thorns also, and thistles, it shall bring thee forth 
Unhid; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field; 
In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, 
Till thou return unto the ground ; for thou 
Out of the ground wast taken, know thy birth, 
For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return." 

So judged he man, both Judge and Saviour sent; 
And the instant stroke of death, denounced that dd\% 
Removed far off; then pitying how they stood 
Before him naked to the air, that now 
Must suffer change, disdained not to begin 
Thenceforth the form of servant to assume, 
As when he washed his servants' feet ; x so nov, 
As father of his family, he clad 
Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slain, 
Or as the snake with youthful coat repaid; 2 
And thought not much to clothe Iris enemies : 
Nor he their outward only with the skins 
Of beasts ; but inward nakedness, much more 
Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness 3 
Arraying, covered from his Father's sight 
To him with swift ascent he up re tinned, 
Into his blissful bosom reassumed 
In glory as of old ; to him appeased. 
All, though all-knowing, what had passed with man 
Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. 

Meanwhile, ere thus was sinned and judged on epjlh, 
Within the gates of Hell sat Sin and Death, 
In counterview within the gates, that now 
Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame 
Far into Chaos, since the Fiend passed through, 
Sin opening ; who thus now to Death began . 

" son, why sit we here each other viewing 
Idly, while Satan our great author thrives 
In other worlds, and happier seat provides 
For us his offspring dear? It cannot be 
But that success attends him ; if mishap, 
Ere this he had returned, with fury driven 
By his avengers, since no place like this 
Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. 
Methinks I feel new strength within me rise, 
Wings growing, and dominion given me large 

' John xiu- 2 This idea is rather pedantic and whimsicvl ■ 

3 Is*. M. JO. 



W* 



-6 



?40 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, k x. 243-^. 

Beyond this deep ; whatever draws me on. 
Or sympathy, or some connatural force. 
Powerful at greatest distance to unite 
With secret amity things of like kind 
By secretest conveyance. Thou, my shade'- 
Inseparable, must with me along ; 
For Death from Sin no power ean separate. 
But lest the difficulty of passing back 
Stay his return perhaps over this gulf 
Impassable, impervious, let us try 
Adventurous work, yet to thy power and mine 
Not unagreeable, to found a path 
Over this main from Hell to that new worl.l 
Where Satan now prevails; a monument 
Of merit high to all the infernal host, 
Easing their passage hence, for intercourse, 
Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead 
Nor can I miss the way, so strongly drawn 
By this new-felt attraction and instinct." 

Whom thus the meagre shadow answered soon. 
" Go whither fate and inclination strong 
Lead thee ; I shall not lag behind, nor err 2 
The way, thou leading ; such a scent I draw 
Of carnage, pre ^ innumerable, and taste 
The savour of death from all things there that live : 
Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest 
Be wanting., but afford thee equal aid." 

So saying, with delight he snuffed the smell 
Of mortal change on earth. As when a flock 
Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote, 
Against the day of battle, to a field 
Where armies lie encamped, come flying, lured 
With scent Hiving carcasses designed 
For death, the following day, in bloody fight : 
So scented the grim feature, and upturned 
His nostril wide into the murky air, 
Sagacious of his quarry from so far. 
Then both from out Hell-gates into the waste 
Wide anarchy of Chaos, damp and dark, 
Flew diverse ; and with power (their power was great) 

1 So Shakspeare, 2 Henry IT. act ii. : — 

" I am your shadow } my lord, I'll folio 1 * you." 
* Mistake. 



~ V 



<h 



*"i K ' 



t. x. 2S 5 ~ 3 i8. PARADISE LOST. 241 

Hovering upon the waters, what they met 

Solid or flimsy, as in raging sea 

Tossed up and down together, crowded drove 

From each side shoaling towards the mouth of Heli : 

As when two polar winds, blowing adverse 

Upon the Cronian sea, 1 together drive 

Mountains of ice, that stop the imagined way 

Bsyond Petsora eastward, to the rich 

Cathaian coast. The aggregated soil 

Death, with his mace petrific, cold and dry, 

As with a trident smote, and fixed as firm 

As Del os floating once ; the rest his look 

Bound with Gorgon i an rigour not to move; 

And with asphaltic slime, broad as the gate, 

Deep to the roots of Hell the gathered beach 

They fastened, and the mole immense wrought on 

Over the foaming deep high arched, a bridge 

Of length prodigious, joining to the wall 

Immoveable of this now senseless world 

Forfeit to Death ; from hence a passage broad, 

Smooth, easy, inoffensive, down to Hell. 

So, if great things to small may be compared, 

Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoko, 

From Susa, his Memnonian palace high, 

Came to the sea, and, over Hellespont 

Bridging his way, Europe with Asia joined, 

And scourged with many a stroke the indignant waves 

Now had they brought the work by wondrous art 

Pontifical, 2 a ridge of pendent rock, 

Over the vexed abyss, following the track 

Of Satan to the self-same place where he 

First lighted from his wing, and landed safe 

From out of Chaos, to the outside bare 

Of this round world : with pins of adamant 

1 The northern frozen sea ("A Thule unius diei navigations mare 
ioncretum, a nonnnllis Cronium appellator. Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 4, 
».ap. 10), and "driving together mountains of ice, that stop the 
imagined way," the north-east passage, a3 it is called, which so man? 
have attempted to discover; ''beyond Petsora eastward,'*' the most 
north-eastern province of Muscovy, " to the rich Cathaian coast," 
Cathay or Catay, a country of Asia, and the northern part of China. 
— Newton. 

2 So called from the " pontilices," who derived their name among the 
Romans trom the wicker bridges (pons), of which they superintended 
the construction. 



V 



242 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, t. x. 319-360. 

&nd chains tliey made all fast, too fast they made, 
And durable ; and now in little space 
The confines met of empyrean Heaven, 
And of this world ; and, on the left hand, Hell 
With long reach interposed : three several ways 
In sight, to each of these three places led. 
And now their way to earth they had descried, 
To Paradise first tending, when behold 
Satan, in likeness of an angel bright, 
Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion 1 steering 
His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose : 
Disguised he came, but those his children dear 
Their parent soon discerned, though in disguise. 
He, after Eve seduced, unminded slunk 
Into the wood fast by ; and, changing shape 
To observe the sequel, saw his guileful act 
By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded 
Upon her husband, saw then shame that sought 
Vain covertures ; but when he saw descend 
The Son of God to judge them, terrified 
He fled, not hoping to escape, but shun 
The present, fearing guilty what his wrath 
Might suddenly inflict; that past, returned 
By night, and listening where the hapless pair 
Sat in their sad discourse, and various plaint, 
Thence gathered his own doom, which understood 
Not instant, but of future time, with joy 
And tidings fraught, to Hell he now returned ; 
And at the brink of Chaos, near the foot 
Of this new wondrous pontiiice, unhoped 
Met who to meet him came, his offspring dear, 
Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight 
Of that stupendous bridge his joy increased. 
Long he admiring stood, till Sin, his fair 
Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke : 

" parent, these are thy magnific deeds, 
Thy trophies, which thou view'st as not thine own ; 
Thou art their author and prime architect : 
For I no sooner in my heart divined, 
My heart, which by a secret harmony 
Still moves with thine, joined in connection sweet 
That thou on earth hadst prospered, which thy looks 

1 As these constellations lay in quite a different part of the hffuvi\ 
f "oni ArieSj Ratnn thereby hoped to elude discovery. 



■^ 



^Cj> 



k. x. 361-399. PARADISE LOST. 243 

Now also evidence, but straight I felt, 

Though distant from thee worlds between, yet felt 

That I must after thee with this thy son, 

Such fatal consequence unites us three : 

Hell could no longer hold us in her bounds, 

Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure 

Detain from following thy illustrious track. 

Thou hast achieved our liberty, confined 

Within Hell -gates till now, thou us empowered 

To fortify thus far, and overlay 

With this portentous bridge the dark abyss. 

Thine now is all this world; thy virtue hath won 

What thy hands builded not, thy wisdom gained 

With odds what war hath lost, and fully avenged 

Our foil in Heaven ; here thou shalt monarch reign 

There didst not ; there let him still victor sway, 

As battle hath adjudged, from this new world 

Retiring, by his own doom alienated ; 

And henceforth monarchy with thee divide, 

Of all tilings parted by the empyreal bounds, 

His quadrature, 1 from thy orbicular world, 

Or try thee now more dangerous to his throne." 

Whoni thus the prince of darkness answered glad: 
11 Fair daughter, and thou son and grandchild both, 
High proof ye now have given to be the race 
Of Satan (for I glory in the name, 
Antagonist of Heaven's almighty King) ; 
Amply have merited of me, of all 
The infernal empire, that so near Heaven's door 
Triumphal with triumphal act have met, 
Mine, with this glorious work, and made one realm 
Hell and this world, one realm, one continent 
Of easy thoroughfare. Therefore, while I 
Descend through darkness, on your road with ease, 
To my associate powers, them to acquaint 
With the?/} successes, and with them rejoice ; 
You two this way, among these numerous orbs. 
All yours, right down to Paradise descend ; 
There dwell and reign in bliss, thence on the earth 

* Milton here follows the opinion of Gassentius and others, who 
ray that the empyreum, or heaven of heavens, is a square figure, 
because the holy city in the Revelation is so described, Rev. xxi. 16 : 
"And the city lieth four-square, and the length is as large as th* 
freadth." — Newior. ■», 



244 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, *. x. 400-434 



f 



Dominion exercise, and in the air, 
Chiefly on man, sole lord of all declared; 
Him first make sure your tin-all, and lastly kill 
My substitutes 1 send ye, and create 
Plenipotent on earth, of matchless might 
Issuing from me : on your joint vigour now 
My hold of this new kingdom all depends, 
Through Sin to Death exposed by my exploit. • 
If your joint power prevail, the affairs of Hell 
No detriment need fear; go, and be strong." 

So saying, he dismissed them ; they with speed 
Tb?ir course through thickest constellations held, 
Spreading their bane ; the blasted stars looked wan, 
A.nd planets, planet-struck, real eclipse 
Then suffered. The other way Satan went down 
The causey to Hell gate ; on either side 
Disparted Chaos, over built, exclaimed, 
And with rebounding surge the bars assailed, 
That scorned his indignation ; through the gate, 
Wide open and unguarded, Satan passed, 
And all about found desolate ; for those 
Appointed to sit there, had left their charge, 
Flown to the upper world ; the rest were all 
Far to the inland retired, about the walls 
Of Pandemonium, city and jjroud seat 
Of Lucifer, so by allusion called, 
Of that bright star to Satan paragoned. 1 
There kept then watch the legions, while the grand 
In council sat, solicitous what chance 
Might intercept their emperor sent; so he, 
Departing, gave command, and they observed. 
As when the Tartar 2 from his Russian foe, 
By Astracan, over the snowy plains 
Retires ; or J3acti*ian Sophi, from the horns 
Of Turkish crescent, leaves all waste beyond 

1 Equal, like unto. 

2 As when the Tartar retreats from his Muscovite enemy, " ovei 
the snowy plains by Astracan," a considerable part of the Gzar's do 
minion, formerly a Tartarian kingdom, with a capital city of tin 
,ame name ; near the mouth of the river Volga, at its fall into th; 
Caspian sea; " or Bactrian Sophi," or the Persian Emperor, named 
Eactrian of Bactria, one of the greatest and richest provinces of Per 
,ia, lying near the Caspian sea ; "from the horns of Turkish cret 
Sent," from his Turkish enemies, who bear the horned moon, the 
'.vrecent on their ensigns ; " leaves all waste beyond the realm Cv 






■:> 



4* — 4* 

b. x. 435-470. PARADISE LOST. 245 

The realm of Aladule, in his retreat 

To Tauris or Casbeen : so these, the late 

Heaven-banished host, left desert utmost Hell 

Many a dark league, reduced in careful watch 

Kound their metropolis, and now expecting 

Each hour then- great adventurer from the search 

Of foreign worlds; he through the midst unmarkeo, 

In show plebeian angel militant 

Of lowest order, passed ; and from the door 

Of that Plutonian hall, invisible 

Ascended his high throne, which, under state 

Of richest texture spread, at the upper end 

Was placed in regal lustre. Down a while 

He sat, and round about him saw unseen : 

At last, as from a cloud, his fulgent head 

And shape star-bright appeared, or brighter, clad 

With what permissive glory since his fall 

Was left him, or false glitter : all amazed 

At that so sudden blaze the Stygian throng 

Bent then* aspect, and whom they wished beheld, 

Their mighty chief returned : loud was the acclaim : 

Forth rush in haste the great consulting peers, 

Raised from then dark divan, and with like joy 

Congratulant approached him, who with hand 

Silence, and with these words attention, won: 

" Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 
For in possession such, not only of light, 
I call ye and declare ye now ; returned 
Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth 
Triumphant out of this infernal pit 
Abominable, accursed, the house of woe, 
And dungeon of our tyrant : now possess, 
As lords, a spacious world, to our native Heaven 
Little inferior, by my adventure hard 
With peril great achieved. Long were to tell 
What I have done, what suffered, with what pain 

Aladule," the greater Armenia, called by the Turks (mider whom the 
greatest part of it is) Aladule, of its last king Aladules ; slain by 
Selymus the First ; " in his retreat to Tauris," a great city in thl 
kingdom of Persia, now called Eebatana, sometimes in the hands of 
the Turks, but in 1603 retaken by Abas, king of Persia ; " or Cas- 
been," one of the greatest cities of Persia, in the province of Ayrach, 
formerly Parthia, towards the Caspian sea, where the Persian 
monarchs made their residence after the loss of Tauris, from wkicl" 
't is distant sixty- five Germsaa miles to the south-east,-— Hum*, 



••& 



— % 



' 



J 4 6 



MIL TON'S FOE TICAL WORKS, h. >. 471-5". 



Voyaged the unreal, vast, unbounded deep 

Of horrible confusion, over which 

By Sin and Der>th a broad way now is paved 

To expedite your glorious march ; but I 

Toiled out my uncouth 1 passage, forced to ride 

The untractable abyss, plunged in the womb 

Of unoriginal night and Chaos wild, 

That, jealous of their secrets, fiercely opposed 

My journey strange, with clamorous uproar 

Protesting 2 Fate supreme; thence bow I found 

The new-created world, which fame in HcaTen 

Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful 

Of absolute perfection, therein man 

Placed in a Paradise, by our exile 

Made happy : him by fraud I have seduced 

From his Creator, and the more to increase 

Your wonder, with an apple ; He, thereat 

Offended (worth your laughter), hath given up 

Both his beloved man and all his world, 

To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, 

"Without our hazard, labour, or alarm, 

To range in, and to dwell, and over man 

To rule, as over all he should have ruled. 

True is, me also he hath judged, or rather 

Me not, but the brute serpent in whose shape 

Man I deceived : that which to me belongs, 

Is enmity, which he will put between 

Me and manldnd ; I am to bruise his heel ; 

His seed (when, is not set) shall bruise my head: 

A world who would not purchase with a bruise, 

Or much more grievous pain ? Ye have the accoun* 

Of my performance : what remains, ye gods, 

But up and enter now into full bliss?" 

So having said, a while he stood, expecting 
Their universal shout and high applause 
To fill his ear : when, contrary, he hears 
On all sides, from innumerable tongues, 
A. dismal universal hiss, the sound 
A public scorn : he wondered, but not long 
jtiad leisure, wondering at himself now more ; 
[lis vis.'ige drawn he felt to sharp and spare, 
Mir. aims clung to his ribs, his legs intwining 



-Afcl' 



;e 4 unusual. 



2 Calling upon Fate as f\ vUr 1ST* 



Y" 



4* 



- 



i>, x. SI3-S4S. PARADISE LOST. 247 

Each other, till supplanted 1 down he fell 

A monstrous serpent on his belly prone, 

Reluctant, but in vain; a greater power 

Now ruled him, punished in the shape he sinned, 

According to his doom: he would have spoke, 

But hiss for hiss returned with forked tongue 

To forked tongue, for now were all transformed 

Alike, to serpents all, as accessories 

To his bold riot : dreadful was the din 

Of hissing through the hall, thick swarming new 

With complicated monsters head and tail, 

Scorpion, and asp, and ainphisbcena 2 dire, 

Cerastes horned, hydras, 3 and elops 4 drear, 

And dipsas 5 (not so thick swarmed once the soil' 

Bedropped with blood of Gorgon, or the isle 

Ophiusa 7 ) ; but still greatest he the midst, 

Now dragon grown, larger than whom the sun 

Engendered in the Pythian vale on slime, 

Huge Python, and his power no less he seemed 

Above the rest still to retain ; they all 

Him followed, issuing forth to the open field, 

Where all yet left of that revolted rout, 

Heaven fallen, in station stood or just array, 

Sublime with expectation, when to see 

In triumph issuing forth then glorious chief; 

They saw, but other sight instead ! a crowd 

Of ugly serpents : horror on them fell, 

And horrid sympathy ; for what they saw, 

They felt themselves now changing ; down their arms, 

Down fell both spear and shield, down they as fast, 

And the dire hiss renewed, and the dire form 

Catched by contagion, like in punishment, 

As in their ciime. Thus was the applause they meant 

1 1. e. literally, "tripped up," from supplanto. There is much fores 
iu this expression, denoting the physical as well as moral degradation 
"A the fiend. 

2 A monster, said to have a head at both ends. 

3 A water serpent. 

4 A dumb serpent, which gives us warning of its approach, as othfir 
serpents do, by hissing. There is, however, some incongruity in the 
•passage. — -See Bentley and Pearce. 

5 So called from the frightful thirst induced by its tile. 

6 Libya, cf. Ovid, Met. iv. 616 ; Lucan, ix. 696. 

7 A small island in the Mediterranean, deriving its nam 3 from \h? 
numerous 6erpents {6<pst£ ) with which it was infested. 



¥ 



4 






^ 



248 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. t.x. 546-58* 

Tinned to exploding hiss, triumph to shame 

Cast on themselves from their own mouths. There stoc£ 

A grove hard by, sprung up with this their change, 

His will who reigns above, to aggravate 

Their penance, laden with fair fruit, like that 

Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve 

Used by the tempter : on that prospect strange 

Their earnest eyes they fixed, imagining 

For one forbidden tree a multitude 

Now risen, to work them further woe or shame ; 

Yet, parched with scalding thirst and hunger fierce 

Though to delude them sent, coidd not abstain, 

But on they rolled in heaps, and up the trees 

Climbing, sat thicker than the snaky locks 

That curled Megsera r 1 greedily they plucked 

The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew 

Near that bituminous lake 2 where Sodom flamed ; 

This, more delusive, not the touch but taste 

Deceived ; they, fondly thinking to allay 

Then appetite with gust, instead of fruit 

Chewed bitter ashes, which the offended taste 

With spattering noise rejected : oft they assayed 

Hunger and thirst constraining; drugged as oft, 

With hatefullest disrelish writhed their jaws 

With soot and cinders filled ; so oft they fell 

Into the same illusion, not as man [plagued 

Whom they triumphed once lapsed. 3 Thus were they 

And worn with famine, long and ceaseless hiss, 

Till their lost shape, permitted, they resumed ; 

Yearly enjoined, some say, to undergo 

This annual humbling certain numbered days, 

To dash their pride, and joy for man seduced. 

However, some tradition they dispersed 

Among the heathen of their piuchase got, 

And fabled how the serpent, whom they called 

Ophion, with Eurynome, the wide 

1 One of the furies. 

2 The lake Asphaltites. near which Sodom and Gomorrah were 
Situated. Josepbus affirms, the shapes and fashions of them and 
Ihree other cities, called the cities of the plain, were to be seen ir 
ids days, and trees loaden with fair fruit (styled the apples of Sodom) 
rising out of the ashes, which at the first touch dissolved into ashes 
-md smoke. 

3 s. «?., ever whom, once lapsed, they triumphed. — Newton. 



*<p*- — 

?. x. 582-623. PARADISE LOST. 249 

Encroaching Eve, perhaps, had first the rul? 
Of high Olympus, thence by Saturn driven, 
And Ops, ere yet Dictaean Jove was born, 

Meanwhile in Paradise the hellish pair 
Too soon arrived; Sin, there in power bef.oie 
Once actual, now in body, and to dwell 
Habitual habitant; behind her Death 
Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet 
On his pale i orse : to whom Sin thus began : 

" Second of Satan sprung, all-conquering Death, 
What think' st thou of our empire now, though earned 
With travel difficult, not better far 
Than still at Hell's dark threshold to have sat watch, 
Unnamed, undreaded, and thyself half-starved ? " 

Whom thus the Sin-bom monster answered soon: 
" To me, who with eternal famine pine, 
Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven; 
There best, where most with ravine I may meet ; 
Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems 
To stuff this maw, this vast unhide-bound corps." 1 

To whom the incestuous mother thus replied : 
" Thou, therefore, on these herbs, and fruits, and flowers. 
Feed fiist, on each beast next, and fish, and fowl, 
No homely morsels , and whatever thing 
The scythe of Time mows down, devour unspared ; 
Till I, in man residing, through the race, 
His thoughts, his looks, words, actions all infect, 
And season him thy last and sweetest prey." 

This said, they both betook them several ways, 
Both to destroy, or unimmortal make 
All kinds, and for destruction to mature 
Sooner or later; which the Almighty seeing, 
From his transcendent seat the saints among, 
To those bright ordei s uttered thus his voice : 

" See with what heat these dogs of Hell ad van x 
To waste and havoc yonder world, which I 
So fair and good created, and had still 
Kept in that state, had not the folly of man 
Let in these wasteful furies, v/ho impute 
Folly to me ; so doth the prince of Hell 
And his adherents, that with so much ease 
I suffer them to enter and possess 

1 Alluding to his lean and meagre appearance, the skin uangin? 
eely about him. 



— *■$)■* 



*©■ 



•$♦ 



25° 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, n. x. 624-659. 



A place so heavenly ; and conniving seem 
To gratify my scornful enemies, 
That laugh, as if, transported with some fit 
Of passion, I to them had quitted all, 

it random yielded up to their misrule ; 

Lnd know not that I called and drew them thither, 
id j Hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth 
Which man's polluting sin with taint Lath shed 
On what was pure, till, crammed and gorged nigh buTgt 
With sucked and glutted offal, at one sling 
Of thy victorious arm, well-pleasing Son, 
Both Sin, and Death, and yawning grave, at last 
Through Chaos hurled, obstruct the mouth of Hell 
For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws. 
Then Heaven and earth, renewed, shall he made putt 
To sanctity that shall receive no stain : 
Till then the curse pronounced on both precedes/' 1 

He ended, and the heavenly audience loud 
Sung hallelujah, as the sound of seas, 
Through multitude that sung : " Just are thy ways, 
Righteous are thy decrees on all thy works ; 
Who can extenuate thee ? " Next, to the Son, 
" Destined Restorer of mankind, by whom 
New Heaven and earth shall to the ages rise, 
Or down from Heaven descend." Such was then song ; 
While the Creator, calling forth by name 
His mighty angels, gave them several charge, 
As sorted best with present things. The sun 
Had first his precept so to move, so shine, 
As might affect the earth with cold and heat 
Scarce tolerable ; and from the north to call 
Decrepit winter; from the south to bring 
Solstitial 2 summer's heat. To the blank moon 
Her office they prescribed : to the other five 
Their planetary motions and aspects, 
[n sextile, square, and trine, and opposite 8 

> I should prefer " proceeds," 'with Bentley ; although precedes * 
u^y perhaps be used in the same sense. 

2 The word " solstitial " seems sufficient to determine from how far 
south Milton meant that this " summer's heat " was brought, viz., so 
'jar from the south as the sun is when ho is in the summer solstice, or 
s-bout 23 1 degrees southward. 

3 If a planet in one part of the zodiac be distant from another bj 
t\ sixth part of twelve, that is, by two signs, their aspect is callei' 
textile ; if by a fourth, square ; by a third, trine ; and if by one hal^ 



»/ru 



r. x. 660-671. PARADISE LOST, 2%\ 

Of noxious efficacy ; and when to join 
In synod unbenign : and taught the fixed 
Their influence malignant when to shower; 
Which of them, rising with the sun, or falling, 
Should prove tempestuous. To the winds they set 
Their comers; when with bluster to confound 
Sea, air, and shore ; the thundei when to roll 
With terror through the dark aerial hall. 
Some say he bid his angels turn askance 
The poles of earth twice ten degrees and mere 
from the sun's axle ; they with labour pushed 
Oblique the centric globe : seme say 1 the sun 

opposite ; which last is said to be of noxious efficacy, because ttu. 
planets so opposed are thought to strive, debilitate, and overcome one 
another ; deemed of evil consequence to those born under or subject 
to the influence of the distressed star. — Hume. 

1 It was eternal spring before the fall, and he is now accounting 
for the change of seasons after the fall, and mentions the two famous 
hypotheses. Some say it was occasioned by altering the position of 
the earth, by turning the poles of the earth above 20 deg. aside from 
the sun's orb: "he bid his angels turn askance the poles of earth 
twice ten degrees and more from the sun's axle;" and the poles of 
the earth are about 23| deg. distant from those of the ecliptic ; "they 
with labour pushed oblique the centric globe," it was erect before, 
but is oblique now; the obliquity of a sphere is the proper astro- 
nomical term, when the pole is raised any number of degrees less 
than DO ; the " centric globe " fixed on its centre, and therefore moved 
with labour and difficulty, or rather centric, as being the centre of 
the world, according to the Ptolemaic system, which our author 
usually follows. Some say, again, this change was occasioned by 
altering the course of the sun, " the sun was bid turn reins from the 
equinoctial road," in which he had moved before, "like distant 
breadth " in both hemispheres ; " to Taurus with the seven Atlantic 
sisters," the constellation Taurus, with the seven stars in his neck, 
the Pleiades, daughters of Atlas ; " and the Spartan twins," the sign 
Gemini, Castor and Pollux, twin brothers, and sons of Tyndarus 
king of Sparta ; " up to the tropic crab/' the tropic of cancer, the sun's 
farthest stage northwards ; " thence down amain," Dr. Bentley reads 
' as much," as much on one side of the equator as the other, but i. 
any alteration were necessary, is it easier to read " thence down again 
by Leo and the Virgin," the sign Virgo ; " and the scales," the con« 
stellation Libra ; " as deep as Capricorn," the tropic of Capricorn 
which is the sun's farthest progress southwards. This motion of the 
sun in the ecliptic occasions the variety of seasons, " else had the 
spring perpetual smiled on earth with vemant flowers," if the sun 
had continued to move in the equator. It is likevise Dr. Burnet's 
assertion, that the primitive earth enjoyed a perpetual spring, and for 
the same reason of the sun's moving in the equator. But though 
this notion of a perpetual spring may be very pleasing in jsoetry, 50! 



♦&<- 



♦A, 



<> 



*fy 



252 



MIL TON'S POE TICAL WORKS, w. x. 672-4599. 



Was bid turn reins from the equinoctial road 

Like distant breadth to Taurus, with the seven 

Atlantic Sisters, and the Spartan Twins, 

Up to \he Tropic Crab ; thence down amaia 

By Leo, and the Virgin, and the Scales, 

As deep as Capricorn, to bring in change 

Of seasons to each clime ; else had the spring 

Perpetual smiled on earth with vernant flowers, 

Equal in days and nights, except to those 

Beyond the polar circles ; to them day 

Had unbenighted shone, while the low sun, 

To recompense his distance, in then sight 

Had rounded still the horizon, and not knowi. 

Or east, or west, which had forbid the snow 

From cold Estotiland, 1 and south as far 

Beneath Magellan. 2 At that tasted fruit 

The sun, as from Thyestean banquet, turned 

His course intended ; else how had the world 

Inhabited, though sinless, more than now, 

Avoiding pinching cold and scorching heat ? 

These changes in the heavens, though slow, produced 

Like change on sea and land ; sideral blast, 

Vapour, and mist, and exhalation hot, 

Corrupt and pestilent : now from the north 

Of Norumbega, 3 and the Samoed shore, 4 

Bursting then brazen dungeon, armed with ice, 

And snow, and hail, and stormy gust, and flaw ; 5 

Boreas, 6 and Caecias, and Argestes loud, 

\t is very false in philosophy ; and this position of the earth, s^ far 
from being the best, is one of the worst it could have, as Dr. KeiJl 
hath proved excellently well in the fourth chapter of his " Examina- 
tion of Dr. Burnet's Theory of the Earth." — Newton. 

1 A tract of North America, towards the Arctic Circle and Hudson's! 
Bay. 

2 In South America, so called from its discoverer, Fred. Magellan. 
in 1520. 

3 In N. America. 

4 In the N. E. of Muscovy, upon the Frozen Ocean. 

5 The same as " gust," but of stronger signification, from <p\a<j, 
to break. 

6 Tae north wind ; " Caecias," the north-west ; " Argestes," the north 
oast ; " Thracias," blowing from Thrace, northward of Greece, 
" Notus," the south wind; "Afer," or Africus, the soi\th-west from 
Africa. "From Serraliona" or Lion Mountains, a range of moun 
tains so called because, of the perpetual storms there roaring like c 
lion. These are to the south west of Africa, within a few leagues 0' 



•& 



**r 



4. 



i>. x. 700—737. 



PARADISE LOSI^ 



253 



And Tlirascias rend the woods, and seas upturn ; 
With adverse blasts upturns them from the south, 
Notus, and Afer black with thunderous clouds 
From Serralioiia ; thwart of these, as fierce, 
Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent winds, 
Eurus and Zephyr, with their lateral noise, 
Sirocco and Libecchio. Thus began 
Outrage from lifeless things 3 but Discord first, 
Daughter of Sin, among the irrational, 
Death introduced, through fierce antipathy : 
Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl, 
And fish with fish ; to graze the herb all leaving, 
Devoured each other ; nor stood much in awe 
Of man, but fled him, or with countenance grim 
Glared on him passing. These were, from without, 
The growing miseries, which Adam saw 
Already in part, though hid in gloomiest shade, 
To sorrow abandoned ; but worse felt within, 
And, in a troubled sea of passion tossed, 
Tims to disbiu'den sought with sad complaint: 

" Oh, miserable of happy ! is this the end 
Of this new glorious world, and me so late 
The glory of that glory, who now become 
Accursed, of blessed ? Hide me from the face 
Of God, whom to behold was then my height 
Of happiness ! Yet well, if here would end 
The misery; I deserved it, and would bear 
My own deservings : but this will not serve ; 
All that I eat or drink, or shall beget, 
Is propagated curse. Oh, voice once heard 
Delightfully, ' Increase and multiply,' 
Now death to hear ! for what can I increase 
Or multiply but curses on my head ? 
Who of all ages to succeed, but, feeling 
The evil on him brought by me, will curse 
My head ? ' 111 fare our ancestor impure ! 
For this we may thank Adam ; ' but his thanks 
Shall be the execration ; so besides 

Cape Verd, the western point; "Eurus and Zephyr," the east and 
west, called also " Levant" and " Ponent " winds (rising and setting), 
the one hlowing from whence the sun rises, the other whence it sets, 
" Sirocco," ventus Syrus, the south-east ; and " Libecchio," ventus 
Lybicus, the south-west : Italian terms, used by seamen of the Med> 
lerranean. ■^Richardson. 



<> 



vj> 



254 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, n. x. 738-76*. 



Mine own that bide upon me, all from me 

Shall with a fierce reflux on me rebound ; 

On me, as on their natural centre light, 

Heavy, though in their place. fleeting joys 

Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes ! 

Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay 

To mould me man ? did I solicit thee 

From darkness to promote me ? or here place 

In this delicious garden ? As my will 

Concurred not to my being, it were but right 

And equal to reduce me to my dust, 

Desirous to resign and render back 

All I received, unable to perform 

Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold 

The good I sought not. To the loss of that, 

Sufficient penalty ! why hast thou added 

The sense of endless woes ? Inexplicable 

Thy justice seems; yet, to say truth, too late 

I thus contest ; then should have been refused 

Those terms, whatever, when they were proposed : 

Thou didst accept them. Wilt thou enjoy the good 

Then cavil the conditions ? and though God 

Made thee without thy leave, what if thy son 

Prove disobedient, and reproved, retort, 

Wherefore didst thou beget thee ? I sought it not r 
Wouldst thou admit, for his contempt of thee, 
That proud excuse? Yet him, not thy election, 
But natural necessity, begot. 
God made thee of choice his own* and of his own 
To serve him : thy reward was of his grace ; 
Thy punishment then, justly, is at his will. 
Be it so, for I submit : Iris doom is fair ; 
That dust I am, and shall to dust return. 
O welcome hour whenever ! Why delays 
His hand to execute what his decree 
Fixed on this day ? Why do I over-live ? 
Why am I mocked with death, and lengthened put 
To deathless pain ? How gladly would I meet 
Mortality my sentence, and be earth 
Insensible ! how glad would lay me down 
As in my mother's lap ! there I should rest 
And sleep secure : his dreadful "oice no mors . 
Would thunder in my ears; no fear of worse 
To me and to my offspring would torment me 



• 



4. 



■r-p* 



n. x. 782-823. PARADISE LOST* 255 

With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt 

Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die; 1 

Lest that pure breath of life, the spirit of man 

Which God inspired, cannot together perish 

With this corporeal clod ; then in the grave, 

Or in some other dismal place, who knows 

But I shall die a living death ? thought 

Horrid, if true ! Yet why P It was but breath 

Of life that sinned : what dies but what had life 

And sin ? The body properly had neither. 

All of me then shall die : let this appease 

The doubt, since human reach no further knows. 

For though the Lord of all be infinite, 

Is his wrath also ? Be it ; man is not so, 

But mortal doomed. How can he exercise 

Wrath without end on man whom death must end? 

Can he make deathless death ? That were to make 

Strange contradiction, which to God himself 

Impossible is held, as argument 

Of weakness, not of power. Will he draw out. 

For anger's sake, finite to infinite 

In punished man, to satisfy his rigour 

Satisfied never ? That were to extend 

His sentence beyond dust and nature's lav/, 

By which all causes else according still 

To the reception of their matter act, 

Not to the extent of their own sphere. But say 

That death be not one stroke, as I supposed, 

Bereaving sense, but endless misery 

From this day onward, which I feel begun 

Both in me, and without me, and so last 

To perpetuity : ay me ! that fear 

Comes thundering back with dreadful revolution 

On my defenceless head ; both Death and I 

Am 2 found eternal, and incorporate both : 

Nor I on my part single : in me all 

Posterity stands cursed. Fair patrimony 

That I must leave ye, sons. Oh ! were I able 

To waste it all myself, and leave ye none ! 

So disinherited, how would ye bless 

^le now your curse ! Ah ! why should all mankind. 

for one man's fault thus guiltless be condemned, 

1 From ITor. Od. iii. xxx,, 6, "non omnis moriftr. w 

2 Jtentley corrects} ere. 



l$6 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, *. x. 824-866. 

If guiltless? But from me what can proceed, 

But all corrupt, both mind and will depraved, 

Not to do only, but to will the same 

With me? How can they then acquitted stand 

In sight of Grod ? Him, after all disputes, 

Forced I absolve : all my evasions vain ; 

And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still 

But to my own conviction : first and last 

On me, me only, as the source and spring 

Of all corruption, all the blame lights due ; 

So might the wrath ! Fond wish ! couldst thou suppoi:: 

That burden heavier than the earth to bear, 

Than all the world much heavier, though divided 

With that bad woman ? Thus what thou desir'st, 

And what thou fear'st, alike destroys all hope 

Of refuge, and concludes thee miserable 

Beyond all past example and future, 

To Satan only like both crime and doom. 

conscience ! into what abyss of fears 
And horrors hast thou driven me, out of which 

1 find no way, from deep to deeper plunged ! " 
Thus Adam to himself lamented loud, 

Through the still night ; not now, as ere man fell, 

Wholesome, and cool, and mild ; but with black ail 

Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom, 

Which to his evil conscience represented 

All things with double terror : on the ground 

Outstretched he lay, on the cold ground, and oft 

Cursed his creation, death as oft accused 

Of tardy execution, since denounced 

The day of his offence. " Why comes not death/ 

Said he, " with one thrice acceptable stroke 

To end me ? Shall truth fail to keep her word ? 

Justice divine not hasten to be just? 

But death comes not at call ; justice divine 

Mends not her slowest j^ace for prayers or cries 

woods ! fountains, hillocks, dales, and bowers! 

With other echo 1 late I taught your shades 

To answer, and resound far other song." 

Whom thus afflicted, when sad Eve beheld, 
Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh, 
Soft words to his fierce passion she assayed ; 
But her with stem regard he thus repelled 
1 Sac v. 202 



4* 



<h 



'^* 



fr. x. 867-909. PARADISE LOST. 25^ 

6 - Out of my sight, thou serpent! that name best 
Befits thee with him leagued, thyself as false 
And hateful ; nothing wants but that thy shape, 
Like his, and colour serpentine, may show 
Thy inward fraud, to warn all creatures from thee 
Henceforth ; lest that too heavenly form pretended 
To hellish falsehood snare them. But for thee 
I had persisted happy, had not thy pride 
And wandering vanity, when least was safe, 
Rejected my forewarning, and disdained 
Not to be -trusted, longing to be seen, 
. Though by the devil himself, him overweening 
To over-reach, but with the serpent meeting 
iooled and beguiled ; by him thou, I by thee ; 
To trust thee from my side, imagined wise, 
Constant, mature, proof against all assaults; 
And understood 2 not all was but a show, 
Rather than solid virtue ; all but a rib, 
Crooked by nature ; bent, as now appears, 
More to the part sinister, from me drawn ; 
Well if thrown out, as supernumerary 
To my just number found. Oh ! why did God, 
Creator wise, that peopled highest Heaven 
With spirits masculine, create at last 
This novelty on earth, tins fair defect 
Of nature, and not fill the world at once 
With men, as angels, without feminine, 
Or find some other way to generate 
Mankind? This mischief had not then befallen, 
And more that shall befall, innumerable 
Disturbances on earth through female snares, 
And strait conjunction with this sex : for either 
He never shall find out fit mate, but such 
As some misfortune brings him, or mistake ; 
Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain 
Through her perverseness, but shall see her gainect 
By a far worse, or if she love, withheld 
By parents ; or his happiest choice too late 
Shall meet, already linked and wedlock-bound 
To a fell adversary, his hate or shame ; 
Which infinite calamity shall cause 
To human life, and household peace confound." 
He added not, and from her turned; but E\e, 
1 u t. held or placed before. ? i. e, I understood. 



f 



> 



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*f 



MILTON'S, POETICAL WORKS, b.x.qio-^ 

Not so repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing 
And tresses all disordered, at his feet 
Fell humble, and embracing them, besought 
His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint : 

" Forsake me not thus, Adam ! witness Heaven 
What love sincere, and reverence in mj heart 
I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, 
Unhappily deceived ! Thy suppliant 
I beg, and clasp thy knees; bereave me not, 
Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, 
Thy counsel in this uttermost distress, 
My only strength and stay : forlorn of thee, 
Whither shall I betake me, where subsist ? 
While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps. 
Between us two let there be peace, both joining, 
As joined in injuries, one enmity 
Against a foe by doom express assigned us, 
That cruel serpent : on me exercise not 
Thy hatred for this misery befallen, 
On me already lost, me than thyself 
More miserable ; both have sinned, but thou 
Against God only, I against God and thee, 
And to the place of judgment will return, 
There with my cries importune Heaven, that all 
The sentence, from thy head removed, may light 
On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe, 
Me, me only, just object of his ire." 

She ended weeping, and her lowly plight, 
Immoveable till peace obtained from fault 
Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought 
Commiseration ; soon his heart relented 
Towards her, his life so late, and sole delight, 
Now at his feet submissive in distress, 
Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking, 
His counsel whom she had displeased, his aid; 
As one disarmed, his anger all he lost, 
And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon i 

" Unwary, and too desirous, as before, 
So now of what thou know'st not, who desir'st 
The punishment all on thyself; alas ! 
Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain 
His full wrath, whose thou feel'st as yet least part v 
And my displeasure bear'st so ill. If prayers 
Could alter high decrees, I to that place 



4> 




PARADISE LOST. 



Soon lvs heart relented 
Towards her, his life so late, and sole delight 



b. x. 955— 997. PARADISE LOST. 259 

Would speed before thee, and be louder heard. 
Tli at on my head all might be visited, 
Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven,- 
To me committed and by me exposed. 
But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame 
Each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but striv6 
In offices of love, how we may lighten 
Each other's burden in our share of woe ; 
Since this day's death denounced, if aught I see, 
Will prove no sudden, but a slow-paced evil, 
n long day's dying to augment our pain, 
And to our seed (0 hapless seed !) derived." 

To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied . 
" Adam, by sad experiment I know 
How little weight my words with thee can find, 
Found so erroneous, thence by just event 
Found so unfortunate ; nevertheless, 
Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place 
Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain 
Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart 
Living or dying, from thee I will not hide 
What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen, 
Tending to some relief of our extremes, 
Or end, though sharp and sad, yet tolerable, 
As in our evils, and of easier choice. 
If care of our descent perplex us most 
Which must be bom to certain woe, devoured 
By death at last; and miserable it is 
To be to others cause of misery, 
Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring 
Into this cursed world a woeful race, 
That after wretched life must be at last 
Food for so foul a monster ; in thy power 
It lies, yet ere conception to prevent 
The race unblessed, to being yet unbegot 
Childless thou art, childless remain ; so Death 
Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two 
Be forced to satisfy his ravenous maw. 
But if thou judge it hard and difficult, 
Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain 
From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweat, 
And with desire to languish without hope, 
Before the present object languishing 
With like desire, which would be misery 



•$< «&. 



o MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. x. 998-1040. 

And torment less than none of what we dread ; 
Then, both ourselves and seed at once to free 
From what we fear for both, let us make short, 
Let us seek Death, or he not found, supply 
With onr own hands his office on ourselves 
Why staii d we longer shivering under fears, 
That show no end but death, and have the powei\ 
Of many ways to die the shortest 1 choosing, 
Destruction with destruction to destroy?" 

She ended here, or vehement despair 
Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts 
Had entertained, as dyed her cheeks with pale 
But Adam with such counsel nothing swayed, 
To better hopes his more attentive mind 
Labouring had raised, and thus to Eve replied : 

" Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems. 
To argue in thee something more sublime 
And excellent than what thy mind contemns ; 
But self-destruction therefore sought, refutes 
That excellence thought in thee, and implies, 
Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret 
Eor loss of life and pleasure overloved. 
Or if thou covet death, as utmost end 
Cf misery, so thinking to evade 
The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God 
Hath wiselier armed his vengeful ire than so 
To be forestalled; much more I fear lest death, 
So snatched, will not exempt us from the pain 
We are by doom to pay ; rather such acts 
Of contumacy will provoke the Highest 
To make death in us live. Then let us seek 
Some safer resolution, which methinks 
'• have in view, calling to mind with heed 
Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise 
The serpent's head ; piteous amends ! unless 
Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe 
Satan, who in the serpent hath contrived 
Against us this deceit : to crush his head 
Would be revenge indeed ; which will be lost 
By death brought on ourselves, or childless days 
Hesolved as thou proposest ; so our foe 
Shall 'scape his punishment ordained, and we 
Instead shall double ours upon our heads. 
1 i.e., the shortest way. 



t 



4" 



$* 



>;. j:. ioii-io74. PARADISE LOST. 261 

No more be mentioned then of violence 
Against ourselves, and wilful barrenness, 
That cuts us off from hope, and savours only 
Kancour and pride, impatience and despite, 
Reluctance against God and his just yoke 
Laid on our necks. Kemember with what mile 1 
And gracious temper he both heard and judged 
Without wrath or reviling ; we expected 
Immediate dissolution, which we thought 
Was meant by death i hat clay, when lo ! to thee 
Pains only in child-bearing were foretold, 
And bringing forth, soon recompensed with joy, 
"Fruit of thy womb : on me the curse aslope 
Glanced on the ground : with labour I must earn 
My bread; what harm ? Idleness had been worse , 
My labour will sustain me ; and lest cold 
Or heat should injure us, his timely care 
Hath unbes«ught provided, and his hands 
Clothed us wworthy, pitying while he judged. 
How much more, if we pray him, will his ear 
Be open, and his heart to pity incline, 
And teach us further by what means to shun 
The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and.snow / 
Which now the sky with various face begins 
To show us in this mountain, while the winds 
Blow moist and keen, shattering 1 the graceful locks 
Of these fair-spreading trees ; which bids us seek 
Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish 
Our limbs benumbed, ere this diurnal star 2 
Leave cold the night, how we his gathered beams 
Reflected, may with matter sere 3 foment; 
Or, by collision of two bodies, grind 
The air attrite to fire, as late the clouds 
Justling, or pushed with winds, rude in their shock, 

1 This " shattering " is an excellent word, and very expressive oi 
the sense, shaking or breaking to pieces ; and etymologists derive i« 
of the Belgic Schetteren ; our author had used it before in his Lye-idas 

" Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year." 

Jnd " locks of trees " is a Latinism : ,( Spissse nemorum eomse/' Hor 
Od. iv. iii. 11; " arboribusque comae," iv. vii. 2. — Newton. 

2 The sun. 

3 Dk- 7 So Spenser, Shepherd's Calendar, id. ii. — 

" His top was bald, and wasted with worms, 
His honour decayed, his branches sere. ' 



■'%- 



ih 



262 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. x. xo 7 5-"ov 

Tine 1 the slant lightning, whose thwart flame driven down 

Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine, 

And sends a comfortable heat from far, 

Which might supply the sun : such fire to use, 

And what may else be remedy or cure 

To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, 

He will instruct us praying, and of grace 

Beseeching him, so as we need not fear 

To pass commodiously this life, sustained 

By him with many comforts, till we end 

In dust our final rest and native home 

What better can we do, than, to the place 

Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall 

Before him reverent, and there confess 

Humbly our faults, and pardon beg, with teal's 

Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air 

Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 

Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek ? 

Undoubtedly he will relent and turn 

From his displeasure ; in whose look serene, 

When angry most he seemed and most severe, 

What else but favour, grace, and mercy shone ?" 

So spake our father penitent, nor Eve 
Felt less remorse : they forthwith to the place 
.Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell 
Before him reverent, and both confessed 
Humbly their faults, and pardon begged, with tears 
Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek. 

i. e. light, kindle, from the Saxon lynan, whence also our »for4 



fiRD 0¥ THE 1ENTH BOOK 



(}+ 



B.xr.i-*). PARADISE LOST, 263 



BOOK XI. 



TEE ARGUMENT. 

The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our firet 
parents, now repenting, and intercedes for them : God accepts them, 
but declares that they must no longer abide in Paradise ; sends 
Michael with a band of cherubim to dispossess them ; but first to 
reveal to Adam future things : Michael's coming down. Adam 
shows to Eve certain ominous signs; he discerns Michael's 
approach ; goes out to meet him : the angel denounces their depar- 
ture. Eve's lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits: the angel 
leads him up to a high hill ; sets before him in vision what shall 
happen till the flood. 

Thus they, in lowliest j^light. repentant stood 

Praying ; for, from the mercy-seat above, 

Prevenient grace descending had removed 

The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh 

Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breathed 

Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayei 

Inspired, and winged for Heaven with speedier flight 

Than loudest oratory ; yet their port 

Not of mean suitors, nor important less 

Seemed their petition, than when the ancient pair 

In fables old, less ancient yet than these, 

Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore 

The race of mankind drowned, before the shrine 

Of Themis stood devout. To Heaven their prayers 

Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious wind3 

Blown vagabond or frustrate : in they passed 

Dimensionless through heavenly doors; then clad 

With incense, where the golden altar fumed, 

By their great Intercessor, came 'n sight 



^\LI'* 



4 



*«** 



4* 



*A« 



264 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. ». xi. 20-6*. 

Before the Father's throne : them the glad Son 
Presenting, thus to intercede began : 

" See, Father, what first-fniits on earth are sprung 
From thy implanted grace m man ; these sighs 
And prayers, which in this golden censer, mixed 
With incense, I thy priest before thee bring, 
Fruits of more pleasing savour, from thy seed 
Sown with contrition in his heart, than those 
Which his own hand, manuring all the trees 
Of Paradise, could have produced, ere fallen 
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear 
To supplication ; hear his sighs, though mute; 
Unskilful with what words to pray, let me 
Interpret for him, me his advocate 
And propitiation : x all his works on me, 
Good or not good, ingraft ; my merit those 
Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay 
Accept me, and in me from these receive 
The smell of peace toward mankind; let him live 
Before thee reconciled, at least his days 
Numbered, though sad, till death, his doom (which I 
To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse), 
To better life shall yield him, where with me 
All my redeemed may dwell in joy and bliss. 
Made one with me, as I with thee am one." 

To whom the Father, without cloud, serene • 
" All thy request for man, accepted Son, 
Obtain : all thy request was my decree; 
But longer in that Paradise to dwell, 
The law I gave to nature him forbids. 
Those pure immortal elements that know 
No gross, no unharmonious mixture foul, 
Eject him tainted now, and piuge him off 
As a distemper, gross to air as gross, 
And mortal food, as may dispose him best 
For dissolution wrought by sin, that first 
Distempered all things, and of incorrupt 
Corrupted. I at first with two fair gifts 
Created him endowed, with happiness 
And immortality : that fondly lost. 
This other served but to eternize woe, 
Till I provided death ; so death become 
His final remedy, and after life 

1 3 John it. 1$, 



Kp* 



*Cp* 



<y 



*w 



b. X1.63-10S. PARADISE LOST. 265 

Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined 

By faith and faithful works, to second life, 

Waked in the renovation of the just, 

Resigns him up with Heaven and earth renewed 

But let us call to synod all the blest 

Through Heaven's wide bounds; from them I will not bid *> 

My judgments, how with mankind I proceed, 

As how with peccant angels late they saw, 

And in their state, though firm, stood more confirmed; 

He ended ; and the Son gave signal high 
To the bright minister that watched : he blew 
Jis trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps 
When God descended, and perhaps once more 
To sound at general doom. The angelic blast 
Filled all the regions : from their blissful bowers 
Of amaranthine shade, fountain, or spring, 
By the waters of life, where'er they sat 
In fellowships of joy, the sons of light 
Hasted, resorting to the summons high, 
And took their seats ; till from his throne supreme 
The Almighty thus pronounced his sovran will: 

" sons ! like one of us man is become 
To know both good and evil, since his taste 
Of that defended 1 fruit ; but let him boast 
His knowledge of good lost, and evil got ; 
Happier, had it sufficed him to have known 
Good by itself, and evil not at all. 
He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite, 
My motions in him ; longer than they move, 
His heart I know how variable and vain, 
Self-left Lest therefore his now bolder han.i 
Reach also of the tree of life, and eat, 
And live for ever, dream at least to live 
For ever, to remove him I decree, 
And send him from the garden forth to till 
The ground whence he was taken, fitter soil. 

" Michael, this my behest have thou in charge 
Take to thee from among the cherubim 
Thy choice of flaming warriors, lest the fiern\ 
Or in behalf of man, or to invade 
Vacant possession, some new trouble raise - . 
Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God 
Without remorse drive out the sinful pair, 

1 Forbidden. The word is similarly used by CJ.siuctx 



x 



•0- 



z66 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b.xi. 106-141. 

From hallowed ground the unholy, and denounce 
To them and to their progeny from thence 
Perpetual banishment. Yet lest they faint 
At the sad sentence rigorously urged 
(For I behold them softened, and with tears 
Bewailing their excess), all terror hide. 
If patiently thy bidding they obey, 
Dismiss them not disconsolate ; reveal 
To Adam what shall come in future days, 
As I shall thee enlighten : intermix 
My covenant in the woman's seed renewed ; 
So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace, 
And on the east side of the garden place, 
Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs, 
Cherubic watch, and of a sword the flame 
Wide-waving, all approach far off to fright, 
And guard all passage to the tree of life ; 
Lest Paradise a receptacle prove 
To spirits foul, an£ all my trees their prey, 
With whose stolen vruit man once more to delude.* 
He ceased ; and the archangelic power prepared 
For swift descent ; with him the cohort bright 
Of watchful cherubim : four faces each 
Had, like a double Janus ; all their shape 
Spangled with eyes, more numerous than those 
Of Argus, 1 and more wakeful than to drowse, 
Charmed with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed 
Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. 2 Meanwhile, 
To resalnte the world with sacred light, 
Leucothea 8 waked, and with fresh dews embalmed 
The earth ; when Adam and first matron Eve 
Had ended now their orisons, and found 
Strength added from above ; new hope to spring 
Out of despaii ; joy, but with fear yet linked ; 
Which thus to Eve his welcome words renewed : 
' " Eve ! easily may faith admit that all 

1 Mercury was employed by Jupiter to lull Argus, a shepherd who 
bad a hundred eyes, asleep, and kill him. 

* " Or his opiate rod," the caduceus of Mercury, -with which hp 
could give sleep to whomsoever he pleased. With this pipe and thfo 
rod he lulled Argus asleep and cut off his head. 

? The "white goddess," as the name in Greek imports, the same 
with N ' Matuta " in Latin ; and " Matuta " is the early morning tha* 
Vtsherft ^ thr< Aurora rosy wii-b the sunbeams. 



+($* 



b. xi. 142-182. PARADISE LOST, 267 

The good which we enjoy from Heaven descends: 
But, that from us aught should ascend to Heaven, 
So prevalent as to concern the mind 
Of God high-hlest, or to incline his will, 
Hard to belief may seem ; yet this will prayer, 
Or one short sigh of human breath; upborne 
Even to the seat of God. For since I sought 
By prayer the offended Deity to appease, 
Kneeled, and before him humbled all my heart, 
Methought I saw him placable, and mild, 
Bending his ear : persuasion in me grew 
That I was heard with favour; peace returned 
Home to my breast ; and to my memory 
His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe ; 
Which, then not minded in dismay, yefcnow 
Assures me that the bitterness of death 
Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee, 
Eve rightly called, mother of all mankind ! 
Mother of all things living, since by thee 
Man is to live ; and all things live for man." 

To whom thus Eve, with sad demeanour meek : 
" Ill-worthy I, such title should belong 
To me transgressor ! who, for thee ordained 
A help, became thy snare : to me reproach 
Rather belongs, distrust, and all dispraise. 
But infinite in pardon was my Judge, 
That I, who first brought death on all, am graced 
The source of life : next favourable thou, 
Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsaf'st, 
Far other name deserving. But the field 
To labour calls us, now with sweat imposed, 
Though after sleepless night ; for see ! the morn, 
All unconcerned with our unrest, begins 
Her rosy progress smiling : let us forth ; 
I never from thy side henceforth to stray, 
Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoined 
Laborious till day droop : while here we dwell, 
What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks ? 
Here let us live, though in fallen state, content!" 

So spake, so wished, much-humbled Eve ; but fate 
Subscribed 1 not: nature first gave signs, impressed 

Consented. So in Measure for Measure, act ii. : — 
" Admit no other way to save his life, 
As I subscribe not." 



4- 



A+ 



^ ,- 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. ». xi. J83-22T, 



On bird beast, air : air suddenly eclipsed. 
After short blush of morn; nigh in her sight 
The bird of Jove, stooped from his airy tour, 
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove ; 
Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, 
First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace, 
Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind ; 
Direct to the eastern gate was bent their flight. 
Adam observed, and with his eye the chase 
Pursuing, not unmoved, to Eve thus spake : 

" Eve ! some further change awaits us nigh, 
Which Heaven, by these mute signs of nature, shows 
Forerunners of his purpose : or to warn 
Us. haply too secure of our discharge 
From penalty, ..because from death released 
Some days : how long, and what till then our life, 
Who knows? or more than this, that we are dust, 
And thither must return, and be no more? 
Why else this double object in our sight 
Of night pursued in the air, and o'er the ground, 
One way the self-same hour ? why in the east 
Darkness ere day's mid-course, and morning-light 
More orient in yon western cloud, that draws 
O'er the blue firmament a radiant white, 
And slow descends with something heavenly fraught?' 

He erred not; for by this the heavenly bauds: 
Down from the sky of jasper lighted now 
In Paradise, and on a hill made halt, 
A glorious apparition, had not doubt 
And carnal fear that day dimmed Adam's eye 
Not that more glorious, when the angels met 
Jacob in Mahanaim, 1 where he saw 

I The field pavilioned with his guardians bright ; 

Nor that, which on the flaming mount appeared 
In Dothan, 2 covered with a camp of fire, 
Against the Syrian king ; who, to surprise 
One man, assassin like, had levied war, 3 
War unproclaimed. The princely hierarch 
In their bright stand there left his powers, to seize 

1 Gen. xxxii. 1. 2 2 Kings, vi. 13, sqq. 

3 Warburton thinks that Milton hints at the war with Holland, 
which broke out in 1664, when the fleet of the Dutch was surprised 
and captured before war had been proclaimed — a transaction which 
gave great scandal to the Whifjp. 



■i 




mm 




PARADISE LOST, 



Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, 
First hunter then 



b. xi. 222-262. PARADISE LOS 7. 269 

Possession of the garden : he alone, 

To find where Adam sheltered, took his way ; 

Not unperceived of Adam, who to Eve, 

While the great visitant approached, thus spake : 

"Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps 
Of us will soon detemiine, or impose 
New laws to be observed ; for I descry, 
From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill, 
One of the heavenly host, and, by his gait, 
None of the meanest ; some great potentate, 
Or of the thrones above : such majesty 
Invests him coming ! yet not terrible, 
That I should fear ; nor sociably mild, 
As Raphael, that I should much connde ; 
But solemn and sublime ; whom, not to offend. 
With reverence I must meet, and thou retire." 
He ended : and the archangel soon drew n ; gh, 
Not in his shape celestial, but as man 
Clad to meet man ; over his lucid arms 
A military vest of piu-ple flowed, 
Livelier than Melibcean, 1 or the grain 
Of Sarra, 2 worn by kings and heroes old 
In time of truce ; Iris had dipped the woof : 
His starry helm unbuckled showed him prime 
In manhood where youth ended : by his side, 
As in a glistering zodiac, hung the sword, 
Satan's dire dread ; tmd in his hand the spear. 
Adam bowed low: he, kingly, from Ids state 
Inclined not, but his coming thus declared: 

" Adam ! Heaven's high behest no preface needs ■ 
Sufficient that thy prayers are heard ; and Death 
Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress, 
Defeated of his seizure : many days 
Given thee of grace, wherein thou mayst repent, 
And one bad act with many deeds well done 
Mayst cover : well may then thy Lord, appeased, 
Redeem thee quite from Death's rapacious claim ; 
But longer in this Paradise to dwell 
Permits not : to remove thee I am come, 
And send thee from the garden forth, to till 
The ground whence thou want taken; fitter soil." 

1 So called from a city of The,.sely, famous for the ostrvm, 01 
purple-fish, there caught. 

2 ». c. the Tyrijn purpl j 



♦ 



270 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xi. 263-306. 

He added not ; for Adam at the news 
Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood 
That all his senses hound : Eve, who unseen 
Yet all had heard, with audible lament 
Discovered soon the place of her retire: 

" Oh, unexpected stroke, worse than of deain ! 
Must I thus leave thee, Paradise ? thus leave 
Thee, Dative soil, these happy walks and shades, 
Fit haunt of gods ? where I had hope to spend, 
Quiet, though sad, the respite of that day 
That must be mortal to us both. flowers, 
That never will in other climate grow, 
My early visitation, and my last 
At even, which I bred up with tender hand 
From the first opening bud, and gave ye names ; 
Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount ? 
Thee lastly, nuptial bower, by me adorned, 
With what to sight or smell was sweet ; from thee 
How shall I part, and whither wander down 
Into a lower world, to this obscure 
And wild ? how shall we breathe in other air 
Less pure, accustomed to immortal fruits?" 

Whom thus the angel interrupted mild : 
" Lament not, Eve, but patiently resign 
What justly thou hast lost: nor se: thy heart, 
Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine : 
Thy going is not lonely ; with thee goes 
Thy husband ; him to follow thou art bound ; 
Where he abides, think there thy native soil." 

Adam, by this from the cold sudden damp 
Recovering, and his scattered spirits returned, 
To Michael thus his humble words addressed : 

" Celestial, whether among the thrones, or named 
$f them the highest, for such of shape may seem 
Prince above princes, gently hast thou tola 
Thy message, which might else in telling wound, 
And in performing end us ; what besides 
Of sorrow and dejection and despair 
Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring, 
'Departure from this happy place, our sweet 
Recess, and only consolation left 
Familiar to our eyes; all places else 
Inhospitable appear and desolate. 



*&> 



». *i. 307-349. PARADISE LOST. 271 

Nor knowing us nor known : and if by prayer 

Incessant I could hope to change the will 

Of him who all things can, I would not cease 

To weary him with my assiduous cries : 

But prayer against his absolute decree 

No more avails than breath against the wind, 

Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth: 

Therefore to his great bidding I submit. 

This most afflicts me, that, departing hence, 

As from his face I shall be hid, deprived 

His blessed countenance ; here I could frequent 

With worship place by place where he vouchsafed 

Presence divine, and to my sons relate, 

On this mount he appeared; under this tree 

Stood visiMe ; among these pines his voice 

I heard ; here with him at tliis fountain talked : 
So many grateful altars I would rear 

Of grassy turf, and pile up every stone 

Of lustre from the brook, in memory, 

Or monument to ages, and thereon 

Offer sweet smelling gums, and fruits, and flowers. 

In yonder nether world where shall I seek 

His bright appearances, or footstep trace ? 

For though I fled him angry, yet, recalled 

To life prolonged and promised race, I now 

Gladly behold though but nis utmost skirts 1 

Of glory, and far off his steps adore." 

To whom thus Michael with regard benign : 

II Adam, thou knowest Heaven Iris, and all the earth, 
Not this rock only ; his omnipresence fills 

Land, sea, and ah*, and every kind that lives, 
Fomented by his virtual power and warmed : 
All the earth he gave thee to possess and rule, 
No despicable gift ; surmise not then 
His presence to these narrow bounds confined 
Of Paradise or Eden : this had been 
Perhaps thy capital seat, from whence had spreai 
All generations, and had hither come 
From all the ends of the earth, to celebrate 
And reverence thee their great progenitor, 
But this pre-eminence thou hast lost, brought down 
To dwell on even ground now with thy sons: 
Yet doubt not but in valley and in plain 
1 Cf. Kiod. xxxiii. 22, sqq. 



'feH- 






w- 



272 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xi 350-388. 

God is as here, and will be found alike 
Present, and of his presence many a sign 
Still following thee, still compassing thee round 
With goodness and jjaternal love, his face 
Express, and of his steps the track divine. 
Which that thou mayst believe, and be confirmed 
Ere thou from hence depart, know I am sent 
To show thee what shall come in future days 
To thee and to thy offspring ; good with bad 
Expect to hear, supernal grace contending 
With sinfulness of men ; thereby to learn 
True patience, and to temper joy with fear, 
And pious sorrow, equally inured 
By moderation either state to bear, 
Prosperous or adverse : so shalt thou lead 
Safest thy life, and best prepared endure 
Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend 
This hill ; let Eve (for I have drenched her eyes) 
Here sleep below, while thou to foresight wakest ; 
As once thou slept'st, while she to life was formed " 

To whom thus Adam gratefully replied : 
" Ascend ; I follow thee, safe guide, the path 
Thou lead'st me, and to the hand of Heaven submit, 
However chastening ; to the evil turn 
My obvious breast ; arming to overcome 
By suffering, and earn rest from labour won, 
If so I may attain." So both ascend 
In the visions of God. It was a hill 
Of Paradise the highest, from whose top 
The hemisphere of earth in clearest ken 
Stretched out to the amplest reach of prospect lay 
Not higher that hill nor wider looking round, 
Whereon for different cause the tempter set 
Our second Adam in the wilderness, 
To show him all earth's kingdoms and their glory 
His eye might there command v> herever stood 
City of old or modern fame, the seat 
Of mightiest empire, from the destined walls 
Of Cambalu, 1 seat of Cathaian Can, 

1 He first takes a view of Asia, and there of the northern parts 
"the destined walls " not yet in being, but designed to be (which is \A 
be understood of all the rest) " of Cambalu, seat of Cathaian Can," 
the principal city of Cathay, a province of Tartary, the ancient seat <A 
the Chams; " and Samarchand by Oxus," the chief city of Zagathaian 



-qjh 



t 



— <>• 



k. xi. 389-404. PARADISE LOST. 273 

And Samarchand by Oxus, Temii''s thione, 
To Paquin of Sinsean kings ; and thence 
To Agra and Lalior, of great Mogul, 
.Down to the golden Chersonese ; or where 
The Persian in Ecbatan sat, or since 
In Hispahan ; or where the Russian Ksar 
In Mosco, or the Sultan in Bizance, 
Turchestan-born : nor could his eye not ken 
The empire of Negus to his utmost port, 
Ercoco, and the less maritime kings, 
Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind, 
And Sofala thought Ophir, to the realm 
Of Congo, and Angola farthest south ; 
Or thence from Niger flood to Atlas mount, 
The kingdoms of Almansor, Fez and Sus, 
Marocco, and Algiers, and Trernisen ; 

Tartary, near the river Oxus; " Temir's throne," the birthplace and 
royal residence of Tamerlane ; and from the northern he passes to 
the eastern and southern parts of Asia ; " to Paquin," or Pekin, 0! 
" Sinsean kings," the royal city of China, the country of the ancient 
Sinae, mentioned by Ptolemy, " and thence to Agra and Labor," two 
great cities in the empire " of the great Mogul, down to the golden 
Chersonese," that is, Malacca, the most southern promontory of the 
•Cast Indies, so called on account of its riches, to distinguish ic from 
the other Chersoneses, or peninsulas ; " or where the Persian in 
Ecbatan sat," Ecbatana, formerly the capital city of Persia; " or since 
in Hispahan," the capital city at present; "or where the Russian 
Ksar," the Czar of Muscovy; " in Mosco," the metropolis of all Russia; 
' or the Sultan in Bizance," the Grand Signior in Constantinople, 
formerly Byzantium ; "Turchestan-born," as the Turks came from 
Turchestan, a province of Tartary ; he reckons these to Asia, as they 
are adjoiniug, and great part of their territories lie in Asia. He 
passes now into Africa ; " nor could his eye not ken the empire 0/ 
Negus,' the Upper Ethiopia, or the land of the Abyssinians, subject 
to one sovereign, styled in then* own language Negus or king, and by 
the Europeans Prester John ; " to his utmost port Ercoco," or Erquico, 
on the Red Sea, the north-east boundary of the Abyssinian empire ; 
" and the less maritime kings," the lesser kingdoms on the sea coast; 
" Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind," all near the line in Zanguebar, 
a great region of the Lower Ethiopia, on the eastern or Indian sea, 
and subject to the Portuguese ; " and Sofala, thought Ophir," another 
kingdom and city on the same sea, mistaken by Purchas aud others 
for Ophir, whence Solomon brought gold ; " to the realm of Congo," a 
kingdom in the lower Ethiopia, on the western shore, as the others 
were on the eastern ; " and Angola farthest south," another kingdom 
south of Congo ; " or thence from Niger flood," the river Niger, 
that divides Negroland into two parts; " to Atlas mount " in the most 
vestern parts of Africa; " the kingdoms of Almansor," the countries 
ever which Almansor waa king, namely, " Fez and Sus, Marocco and 



I 



4. 



v.c?^ 



274 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xi. 405-433. 

On Europe thence, and where Rome was to sway 
The world : in spirit perhaps he also saw 
Rich Mexico, the seat of Montezume, 
And Cusco, in Peru, the richer seat 
Of Atabalipa, and yet unspoiled 
Guiana, whose great city Geryon's sons 
Call El Dorado ; but to nobler sights 
Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, 
Which that false fruit that promised clearer siglii; 
Had bred; then purged with euphrasy 1 and rue 
The visual nerve, for he had much to see ; 
And from the well of life three drops instilled. 
So deep the power of these ingredients pierced, 
E'en to the inmost seat of mental sight, 
That Adam, now enforced to close his eyes, 
Sunk down, and all his spirits became entranced , 
But him the gentle angel by the hand 
Soon raised, and his attention thus recalled : 

" Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold 
The effects which thy original crime hath wrought 
In some to spring from thee, who never touched 
The excepted tree, nor with the snake conspired, 
Nor sinned thy sin, yet from that sin derive 
Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds." 

His eyes he opened, and beheld a field, 
Part arable and tilth, whereon were sheaves 
New reaped, the other part sheep-walks and folds; 
I' the midst an altar as the landmark stood, 
Rustic, of grassy sord ; 2 thither anon 

Algiers, and Tretnisen," all kingdoms in Barbary. After Africa he 
conies to Europe : " on Europe thence, and where Borne was to s /ay 
the world : " the less is said of Europe as it is so well known. " In 
Dpirit perhaps he also saw," he could not see it otherwise, as America 
was on the opposite side of the globe ; " rich Mexico," in North 
America, " the seat of Montezume," who was subdued by the Spanish 
general Cortes; " and Cusco in Peru," in South America, " the richel 
scat of Atabalipa," the last emperor subdued by the Spanish general 
Pizarro ; " and yet unspoiled Guiana," another country of South 
America, not thsninvaded and spoiled ; " whose great city," namely 
Manhoa, " Geryon's sons," the Spaniards, from Geryon, an ancient 
king of Spain, " call El Dorado," or the golden city, on account of its 
richness and extent. And thus he surveys the four different parts of 
the world, but, it must be confessed, more with an ostentation cf 
learning, than with any additional beauty to the poem. — Newton. 
1 Or eye-bright. 2 Swerd, sward, turf 



& 



-&< 



<A«_ ; ■ ■ H 



*.•«. 434-477. PARADISE LOST, 275 

A sweaty reaper from his tillage brought 
First-fruits, the green ear, and the yellow sheaf, 
Unculled, as came to hand ; a shepherd next. 
More meek, came with the firstlings of his iiock, 
Choicest and hest; then sacrificing, laid 
The inwards and their fat, with incense strewed, 
On the cleft wood, and all due rites performed: 
His offering soon propitious fire from Heaven 
Consumed with nimble glance and grateful steam , 
The other's net, for his was not sincere : 
Whereat he in]y raged ; and, as they talked, 
Smote him into the midriff witli a stone 
That beat out life : he fell, and, deadly pale, 
Groaned out his soul with gushing blood effused 
Much at that sight was Adam in his heart 
Dismayed ; and thus, in haste, to the angel cried 

" teacher ! some great mischief had befallen 
To that meek man, who well had sacrificed ! 
Is piety thus and pure devotion paid ? " 

To whom Michael thus, he also moved, replied : 
" These two are brethren, Adam, and to come 
Out of thy loins ; the unjust the just hath slain, 
For envy that his brother's offering found 
From Heaven acceptance ; but the bloody fact 
Will be avenged, and the other's faith, approved, 
Lose no reward, though here thou see him die, 
llolling in dust and gore." To which our sire : 

" Alas ! both for the deed and for the cause ! 
But have I now seen death ? Is this the way 
I must return to native dust? Oh, sight 
Of terror, foul and ugly to behold ! 
Horrid to think! how horrible to feel !" 

To whom thus Michael : " Death thou hast soen 
In his first shape on man; but many shapes 
Of Death, and many are the ways that lead 
To his grim cave, all dismal ; yet to sense 
More terrible at the entrance than within. 
Some, as thou saw'st, by violent stroke shall die; 
By fire, flood, fomine; by intemperance more 
In meats and drinks, which on the earth shall bring 
Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew 
Before thee shall appear, that thou mayst know 
What misery the mabstinence of Eve 
Shall bring on men." Immediately a place 



T 



-v- 



V* 



•$* 



276 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xi. 478-521. 

Befcre his eyes appeared, sad, noisome, daik ; 
A lazar-house it seemed, wherein were laid 
Numbers of all diseased, all maladies 
Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms 
Of heart-sick agony; all feverous kinds, 
Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, 
Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs, 
Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy, 
And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, 
Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, 
Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheum? 
Dire was the tossing, deep the groans ; Despair 
Tended the sick busiest from couch to couch , 
And over them triumphant Death his dart 
Shook, hut delayed to strike, though oft invoked 
With vows, as their chief good, and final hope. 
Sight so deform, what heart of rock could long 
Dry-eyed behold? Adam could not, but wept, 
Though not of woman born ; compassion quelled 
His best of man, and gave him up to tears 
A space, till firmer thoughts restrained excess ; 
And, scarce recovering words, his plaint renewed : 

" Oh, miserable mankind ! to what fall 
Degraded ! to what wretched state reserved ! 
Better end here unborn. Why is life given 
To be thus wrested from us ? rather why 
Obtruded on us thus ? who, if we knew 
What we receive, would either not accept 
Life offered, or soon beg to lay it down^ 
Glad to be so dismissed in peace. Can thus 
The image of God, in man created once 
So goodly and erect, though faulty since, 
To such unsightly sufferings be debased 
Under inhuman pains? Why should not man, 
Retaining still divine similitude 
In part, from such deformities be free, 
And for his Maker's image sake exempt?" 

"Their Maker's image," answered Michael, " thek 
Forsook them, when themselves they vilified 
To serve ungoverned appetite, and took 
His image whom they served, a brutish vice, 
Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve. 
Therefore so abject is their punishment, 
Disfiguring not God's likeness, but their ow>« 






¥ 



^*_ — — ^ 

b. xi. 522-565. PARADISE LOST 277 

Or, if his likeness, by themselves defaced. 
While they pervert pure nature's healthful rules 
To loathsome sickness ; worthily, since they 
God's image did not reverence in themselves " 

" I yield it just," said Adam, " and submit. 
But is there yet no other way, besides 
These painful passages, how we may come 
To death, and mix with our connatural dust?" 

" There is," said Michael, " if thou well observe 
The rule of not too much, by temperance taught, 
In what thou eat'st and drink'st, seeking from thence 
Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight. 
Till many years over thy head return : 
So mayst thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop 
Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease 
Gathered, not harshly plucked, for death mature -• 
This is old age ; but then thou must outlive 
Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change 
To withered, weak, and gray; thy senses then 
Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forego, 
To what thou hast ; and for the air of youth, 
Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign 
A melancholy damp of cold and dry 
To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume 
The balm of life." To whom our ancestor ■ 

" Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong 
Life much, bent rather how I may be quit, 
Fairest and easiest, of this cumbrous charge, 
Which I must keep till my appointed day 
Of rendering up, and patiently attend 
My dissolution." Michael replied : 

" Nor love thy life, nor hate ; but what thou Hv'st 
Live well ; how long or short, permit to Heaven : 
And now prepare thee for another sight." 

Ee looked, and saw a spacious plain, whereon 
Were tents of various hue ; by some were herds 
Of cattle grazing ; others, whence the sound 
Of instruments that made melodious chime 
Was heard, of harp and organ ; and who moved 
Their stops and chords was seen : his volant toueb 
Instinct through all proportions low and high 
Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue. 
In other part stood one who at the forge 
Labouring, two massy clods of iron and brass 



$» 



■■> 



♦&■ ip 

f 

278 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xi. 566-609, 

Had incited (whether found where casual fire 

Had wasted woods on mountain or in vale, 

Down to the veins of earth, thence gliding hot 

To some cave's mouth, or whether washed by stream 

From under ground) ; the liquid ore he drained 

Into fit moulds prepared ; from which he formed, 

First, hip, own tools; then, what might else be wrough* 

Fusil or graven in metal. After these, 

But on the hither side, a different sort 

From the high neighbouring hills, which wa3 their seal, 

Down to the plain descended : by their guise, 

Just men they seemed, and all their study bent 

To worship God aright, and know his works 

Not hid, nor thos« tilings last which might preserve 

Freedom and peace to men : they on the plain 

Long had not walked, when from the tents, behold ! 

A bevy of fair women, richly gay 

In gems and wanton dress ; to the harp they sung 

Soft amorous ditties, and in dance came on: 

The men, though grave, eyed them, and let their eves 

Rove without rein, till, in the amorous net 

Fast caught, they liked, and each his liking chose ; 

And now of love they treat, till the evening star, 

Love's harbinger, appeared ; then all in heat 

They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke 

Hymen, then first to marriage rites invoked : 

With feast and music all the tents resound. 

Such happy interview and fair event 

Of love and youth not lost, songs, garlands, flowers, 

And charming symphonies, attached the heart 

Of Adam, soon inclined to admit delight, 

The bent of nature ; which he thus expressed : 

" True opener of mine eyes ! prime angel blest! 
Much better seems this vision . and more hope 
Of peaceful days portends, than those two past : 
Those were cf hate and death, or pain much worse,. 
Here nature seems fulfilled in_all her ends." 

To whom thus Michael : " Judge not what is bos! 
By pleasure, though to nature seeming meet, 
Created as thou art to nobler end, 
Holy and pure, conformity divine. 
Those tents thou saw'st so pleasant, were the tents 
Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his race 
Who slew his brother ; studious they appear 



-> 



t 



<> 



b. xr. 610-648. PARADISE LOST. 279 

Of arts that polish, life, inventors rare, 

Unmindful of their Maker, though his Spirit 

Taught them ; hut they his gifts acknowledged none 

Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget; 

For that fair female troop thou saw'st, that seemed 

Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 

Yet empty of all good, wherein consists 

Woman's domestic honour and chief praise, 

Bred only and completed to the taste 

Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance, 

To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye ; 

To these that sober race of men, 1 whose lives 

Religious titled them the sons of God, 

Shall yield up all their virtue, all their fame, 

Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles 

Of these fair atheists; and now swim in joy, 

Ere long to swim at large ; and laugh, for which 

The world, ere long, a world 3 of tears must weep " 

To whom thus Adam, of short joy bereft: 
11 Oh, pity and shame, that they, who to live well 
Entered so fair, should turn aside to tread 
Paths indirect, or in the midway faint ! 
But still I see the tenor of man's woe 
Holds on the same, from woman to begin." 

" From man's effeminate slackness it begins," 
Said the angel, " who should better hold his place 
By wisdom, and superior gifts received. 
But now prepare thee for another scene." 

He looked, and saw wide territory spread 
Before him; towns, and rural works between; 
Cities of men with lofty gates and towers, 
Concourse in arms, fierce faces threatening war s 
Giants of mighty bone, and bold emprise; 3 
Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming steetv 
Single, or in array of battle ranged, 
Both horse and foot ; nor idly mustering stood : 
One way a band select from forage drives 
A herd of beeves, fair oxen and fair kine, 
From a fat meadow-ground; or fleecy flock, 

1 See Gen. vi. 2. The sons of Seth are meant 

2 There is the same jingle in ix, 11. 

" That brought Into tbi? w&ld a world of tfc<y." 
5 Enterprise. 



•{fe* 



<* 



* 



4- 



280 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. jti. V* «**• 



Ewes and their bleating Iambs, over the plain, 
.Their booty ; scarce with life the shepherds fly, 
But call in aid, which makes a bloody fray : 
With cruel tournament the squadrons join ; 
Where cattle pastured late, now scattered lies 
With carcasses and arms the ensanguined field, 
Deserted. Others to a city strong 
Lay siege, encamped, by battery, scale, and mine, 
Assaulting : others from the wall defend, 
With dart and javelin, stones, and sulphurous fire : 
On each hand slaughter, and gigantic deeds. 
In other part the sceptred heralds call 
To council, in the city gates : anon 
Gray-headed men and grave, with warriors mixed, 
Assemble, and harangues are heard ; but soon, 
In factious opposition ; till at last 
Of middle age one rising, eminent 
In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong, 
Of justice, of religion, truth, and peace, 
And judgment from above : him old and young 
Exploded, and had seized with violent hands, 
Had not a cloud descending snatched him thence, 
Unseen amid the throng : so violence 
Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law, 
Through all the plain; and refuge none was found 

Adam was all in tears, and to his guide 
Lamenting turned full sad : "Oh, what are these 9 
Death's ministers, not men ! who thus deal deatb 
Inhumanly to men, and multiply 
Ten thousandfold the sin of him who slew 
His brother; for of whom such massacre 
Make they, but of their brethren, men of men ? 
But who was that just man, whom had not Heaven 
Rescued, had in his righteousness been lost e . " 

To whom thus Michael : " These are the product 
Of those ill-mated marriages thou saw'st; 
Where good with bad were matched, who of themselves 
Abhor to join; and by imprudence mixed, 
Produce prodigious births of body or mind. 
Such were these giants, men of high renown ; 
v or in those days might only shall be admired, 
And valour and heroic virtue called: 
To overcome in battle, and subdue 
Notions, and bring home spoils with infinite 



♦&■ 



4- 



*Y 



Kp* 

6. xi. 693-730. PARADISE LOST. 281 

Man-slaughter, shall ho held the highest pitch 

Of human glory; and for glory done 1 

Of triumph, to he styled great conquerors, 

Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods; 

Destroyers rightlier called, and plagues of men ! 

Thus fame shall he achieved, renown on earth; 

And what most merits fame in silence hid. 

But he, the seventh 2 from thee, whom thou beheld'a* 

The only righteous in a world perverse, 

And therefore hated, therefore so beset 

With foes, for daring single to he just, 

And utter odious truth that God would come 

To judge them with his saints : him the Most High, 

Rapt in a balmy cloud with winged steeds, 

Did, as thou saw'st, receive, to walk with God 

High in salvation and the climes of bliss, 

Exempt from death, to show thee what reward 

Awaits the good, the rest what punishment ; 

Which 3 now direct thine eyes, and soon behold." 

He looked, and saw the face of things quite changed 
The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar ; 
All now was turned to jollity and game, 
To luxury and riot, feast and dance, 
Marrying or prostituting, as befell, 
Rape or adultery, where passing fair 
Allured them ; thence from cups to civil brous. 
At length a reverend sire 4 among them came, 
And of their doings great dislike declared, 
And testified against their ways: he oft 
Frequented their assemblies, whereso met, 
Triumphs, or festivals; and to them preached 
Conversion and repentance, as to souls 
In prison, under judgments imminent; 
But all in vain ! Which when lie saw, he ceased 
Contending, and removed his tents far off: 
Then, from the mountain hewing timber tall, 
Began to build a vessel of huge bulk, 
Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and height ; 

1 rientley reads " glory won or triumph." Newton explains the 
passage to mean, to ova-come, to subdue, to spoil, shall be held iht 
highest pitch of glory, and " shall be done for glory of triumph." 

2 Enoch. See Jude 14, sqq. 

3 i. e. Which behold thou, directing thine eyes to them,. 
Noah. See 2 Peter ii. 5 ; 1 Peter iii. 19, 20. 



*fy »$. 



4* 



^> 



282 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xr. 731-77*. 



Smeared round with pitch ; and in the side a dooi 

Contrived ; and of provisions laid in large, 

For man and beast : when lo ! a wonder strange ! 

Of every beast, and bird, and insect small, 

Came sevens, and pairs ; and entered in, as taught 

Their order: last the sire, and his three sons 

With their four wives : and God made fast the door. 

Meanwhile the south-wind rose, and, with black wings 

Wide hovenng, all the clouds together drove 

From under Heaven : the hills, to then supply, 

Vapour and exhalation, dusk and moist, 

Sent up amain. And now the thickened sky 

Like a dark ceiling stood : down rushed the rain 

Impetuous ; and continued, till the earth 

No more was seen : the floating vessel swum 

Uplifted, and secure with beaked prow 

Rode tilting o'er the waves : all dwellings else 

Flood overwhelmed, and them with all their pomp 

Deep under water rolled : sea covered sea, 

Sea without shore : and in their palaces, 

Where luxury late reigned, sea-monsters whelped 

And stabled : of mankind (so numerous late) 

All left, in one small bottom swum embarked. 

How didst thou grieve then, Adam ! to behold 
The end of all thy offspring ; end so sad, 
Depopulation ! Thee another flood, 
Of tears and sorrow a flood, thee also drowned, 
And sunk thee as thy sons ; till, gently reared 
By the angel, on thy feet thou stood' st at last, 
Though comfortless; as when a father mourns 
His children, all in view destroyed at once , 
And scarce to the pugel uttered'st thus thy plaint 

" Oh, visions ill foreseen ! Better had I 
Lived ignorant of future! so had borne 
My part of evil only ; each day's lot 
Enough to bear : those now, that were dispensed 
The burden of manv ages, on me light 
At once, by my foreknowledge gaining birth 
Abortive, to torment me, ere their being, 
With thought that they must be. Let no man saoli 
Henceforth to be foretold what shall befall 
Him or his children ; evil he may be sure, 
Which neither his foreknowing can prevent; 
And he I he future evil shall, no less 



,-:,- 



Y 



4* 



e. xi. 775-818. PARADISE LOST. 283 



In apprehension than in substance, feel. 

Grievous to bear. But that care now is past; 

Man is not whom to warn : those few escaped 

Famine and anguish will at last consume 

Wandering that watery desert : I had hope 

When violence was ceased, and war on earth. 

All would have then gone well, peace would have crowned 

With length of happy days the race of man ; 

But I was far deceived ; for now I see 

Peace to corrupt no less than war to waste. 

How comes it thus? unfold, celestial guide, 

And whether here the race of man will end." 

To whom thus Michael : " Those whom la st thou saw'st 
In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they 
First seen in acts of prowess eminent 
And great exploits, but of true virtue void ; 
Who having spilt much blood, and done much waste, 
Subduing nations, and achieved thereby 
Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey, 
Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and sloth, 
Surfeit and lust, till wantonness and pride 
Raise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace. 
The conquered also, and enslaved by war, 
Shall with their freedom lost all virtue lose 
And fear of God, from whom their piety feigned 
In sharp contest of battle found no aid 
Against invaders; therefore cooled in zeal, 
Thenceforth shall practise how to live secure, 
Worldly or dissolute, on what their lords 
Shall leave them to enjoy; for the earth shall bea* 
More than enough, that temperance may be tried: 
So all shall turn degenerate, all depraved ; 
Justice and temperance, truth and faith, forgot; 
One man except, the only son of light 
In a dark age, agaiust example good, 
Against allurement, custom, and a world 
Offended; fearless of reproach and scorn, 
Oi violence, he of then wicked ways 
Shall them admouish, and before them set 
The paths of righteousness, how much more safo : 
And full of peace, denouncing wrath to come 
On their impenitence ; and shall return 
Of them derided, but of God observed, 
The one just man alive ■ by his command 

^ _ -^» 



♦A, _ — — ^ 

284 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xi. 819-859. 

Shall baild a wondrous a:k, as thou beheld'st, 

To save himself and household from amidst 

A woild devote to universal wreck. 

No sooner he with them of man and beast 

Select for life shall m the ark be lodged, 

And sheltered round, but all the cataracts 

Of Heaven set open on the earth shall pour 

Rain day and night ; all fountains of the deep 

Broke up, shall heave the ocean to usurp 

Beyond all bounds, till inundation rise 

Above the highest hills : then shall this mount 

Of Paradise by might of waves be moved 

Out of his place, pushed by the horned flood, 

With all his verdure spoiled, and trees adrift, 

Down the great river to the opening gulf, 

And there take root an island salt and bare, 

The haunt of seals, and ores, 1 and sea-mews' clang ; 

To teach thee that God attributes to place 

No sanctity, if none be thither brought 

By men who there frequent, or therein dwell. 

And now what further shall ensue, behold." 

He looked, and saw the ark hull 2 on the flood, 
Which now abated; for the clouds were fled, 
Driven by a keen north-wind, that blowing dry, 
Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decayed ; 
And the clear sun on his wide watery glass 
Gazed hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew, 
As after thirst, which made then flowing shrink 
From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stole 
With soft foot towards the deep, who now had stopped 
His sluices, as the Heaven his windows shut. 
The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground, 
Fast on the top of some high mountain fixed. 
And now the tops of hills as rocks appeal ; 
With clamour thence the rapid currents drive 
Towards the retreating sea their furious tide 
Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies, 
And, after him, the surer messenger, 
A dove sent forth once and again to spy 
Green tree or ground whereon his foot may light ; 
The second time returning, in his bill 

1 Orca, a large sea animal. 

2 A vessel is sivid to " hull," when all her sails aro lowered, and rtbi 
Tocto to and fro. 

^ ty 



^r 






*. xi. 860-901. PARADISE LOST. 28$ 

An olive-leaf he brings, pacific sign : 
Anon dry ground appeal's, and from liis ark 
The ancient sire descends with all his train , 
Then with uplifted hands and eyes devout, 
Grateful to Heaven, over his head beholds 
A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow 
Conspicuous with three lifted colouro gay, 
Betokening peace from God, and covenant new 
Whereat the heart of Adam, erst so sad, 
Greatly rejoiced, and thus his joy broke forth : 

" thou who future things canst represent 
As present ! heavenly instructor ! I revive 
At this last sight, assured that man shall live 
With all the creatures, and their seed preserve. 
Far less I now lament for one whole world 
Of wicked sons destroyed, than I rejoice 
For one man found so perfect and so just, 
That God vouchsafes to raise another world 
From him, and all his anger to forget. 
But say, what mean those coloured streaks in Heaven 
"Distended, as the brow of God appeased 
Or serve they as a flowery verge to bind 
The fluid skirts of that same watery cloud, 
Lest it again dissolve and shower the earth ?" 

To whom the archangel : " Dexterously thou aim'st; 
So willingly doth God remit his ire, 
Though late repenting him of man depraved, 
Grieved at his heart when looking down he saw 
The whole earth filled witli violence, and all flesh 
Corrupting each their way ; yet, those removed, 
Such grace shall one just man find in his sight, 
That he relents, not to blot out mankind, 
And makes a covenant never to destroy 
The earth again by flood, nor let the sea 
Surpass his bounds, nor rain to drown the world 
With man therein or beast; but when he brings 
Dver the earth a cloud, will therein set 
His triple-coloured bow, whereon to look, 
And call to mind his covenant: day and night, 
Seed-time and harvest, heat and hoary frost, 
Shall hold their course, till fire purge all things new, 
Both Heaven and earth, wherein the just shall dwo* J • 

END OF THE ELEVENTH BOOK. 



Jts% 



286 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



+&* 



BOOK XII. 



THE ABGTTMENT. 

The angel Michael continues from the flood to relate what shall 
succeed ; then, in the mention of Ahraham, comes by degrees to 
explain -who that seed of the woman shall be, which was promised 
Adam and Eve in the fall ; his incarnation, death, resurrection, and 
ascension ; the state of the church till his second coming. Adam, 
greatly satisfied and recomforted by these relations and promises, 
descends the hill with Michael; wakens Eve, who all this while 
had slept, but with gentle dreams composed to quietness of mind 
and submission. Michael in either hand leads them out of Para- 
dise, the fiery sword waving behind them, and the cherubim taking 
their stations to guard the place. 

As one who in his journey bates at noon, 

Though bent on speed, so here the archangel paused 

Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored, 

If Adam aught perhaps might interpose ; 

Then with transition sweet new speech resumes : 

" Thus thou hast seen one world begin and end; 
And man as from a second stock proceed. 
Much thou hast yet to see, but I perceive 
Thy mortal sight to fail ; objects divine 
Must needs impair and weary human sense . 
Henceforth what is to come I will relate, 
Thou, therefore, give due audience, and attend. 
This second source of men, while yet but few, 
And while the dread of judgment past remains 
Fresh in their minds, fearing the Deity, 
With some regard to what is just and right 
Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace, 
Labouring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, 
Corn, wine, and oil; and from the herd or flock, 
Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid, 



*> 



»€> 



e. xii. 21-64. PARADISE LOST, 287 

With large wine- offerings poured, and sacred feast 

Shall spend their days in joy unhlamed, and dwell 

Long time in peace by families and tribes 

Under paternal rule : till one shall rise 

Of proud ambitious heart, who, not content 

With fail- equality, fraternal state, 

Will arrogate dominion undeserved 

Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 

Concord and law of nature from the earth, 

Hunting (and men, not beasts, shall be his game) 

With war and hostile snare such as refuse 

Subjection to his empire tyrannous: 

A mighty hunter thence he shall bo styled 

Before the Lord, as in despite of Heaven, 

Or from Heaven claiming second sovranty, 

And from rebellion shall derive his name, 

Though of rebellion others he accuse. 

He with a crew, whom like ambition joins 

With him or under him to tyrannize, 

Marching from Eden towards the west, shall find 

The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge 

Boils out from under ground, the mouth of Hell : 

Of brick, and of that stuff, they cast to build 

A city and tower, whose top may reach to Heaven j 

And get themselves a name, lest, far dispersed 

In foreign lands, their memory be lost. 

Regardless whether good or evil fame. 

But God, who oft descends to visit men 

Unseen, and through their habitations walks 

To mark their doings, them beholding soon, 

Comes down to see their city, ere the tower 

Obstruct Heaven-towers, and in derision sets 

Upon their tongues a various spirit to rase 

Quite out their native language, and instead 

To sow a jangling noise of words unknown ■ 

Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud 

Among the builders ; each to other calls 

Not understood, till hoarse, and all in rage. 

As mocked they storm; great laughter was in Heaves, 

And looking down, to see the hubbub strange, 

And hear the din ; thus was the building left 

Ridiculous, and the work Confusion named." 

Whereto thus Adam, fatherly displeased : 
u execrable son ! so to aspire 



-~M~ 



<A* ; -*A> 



288 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xh. 65-106. 

Above his brethren, to himself assuming 
Authority usurped, from God not given , 
He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, 
Dominion absolute ; that right we hold 
By his donation ; but man over men 
He made not lord; such title to himself 
Reserving, human left from human free. 3 
But this usurper his encroachment proud 
Stays not on man ; to God his tower intends 
Siege and defiance. Wretched man ! what food 
Will he convey up thither to sustain 
Himself and his rash army, where thin air 
Above the clouds will pine his entrails gross. 
And famish him of breath, if not of bread ? " 

To whom thus Michael : " Justly thou abhorr'st 
That son, who on tb j quiet state of men 
Such trouble brouglit, affecting to subdue 
Rational liberty ; yet know withal, 
Since thy original lapse, true liberty 
Is lost, which always with right reason dwells 
Twinned, and from her hath no dividual being , 
Reason in man obscured, or not obeyed, 
Immediately inordinate desires 
And upstart passions catch the government 
From reason, and to servitude reduce 
Man, till then free. Therefore, since he permits 
Within himself unworthy powers to reign 
Over free reason, God, in judgment just, 
Subjects him from without to violent lords, 
Who oft as undeservedly enthral 
His outward freedom : tyranny must be, 
Though to the tyrant thereby no excuse. 
Yet sometimes nations will decline so low 
From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong 
But justice, and some fatal curse annexed, 
Deprives them of their outward liberty, 
Their inward lost : witness the irreverent son 
Of him who built the ark, who for the shame 
Done to his father, heard this heavy curse, 
• Servant of servants,' on his vicious race. 
Thus will this latter, as the former world, 
Still tend from bad to worse, till God at last, 



1 We need scarcely point out the bent of Milan's anti-roy?j Lis- 
position in this passage. 



" w 4 



. xii. 107-148. PARADISE LOST. 289 

Wearied wt,L their iniquities, withdraw 

His presence from among them, and avert 

His holy eyes ; resolving from thenceforth 

To leave them to their own polluted ways ; 

And one peculiar nation to select 

From all the rest 5 of whom to be invoked, 

A nation from one faithful man to spring. 

Him, on this side Euphrates yet residing, 

Bred up in idol worship 1 (Oh, that men — 

Canst thou believe ? — should be so stupid grown, 

While yet the patriarch lived who 'scaped the Hood, 

As to forsake the living God, and fall 

To worship their own work in wood and stone 

For gods !), yet Mm God the Most Higli vouchsafes 

To call by vision, from his father's house, 

His kindred, und false gods, into a land 

Which He will show hhn, and from him will raise 

A mighty nation ; and upon him shower 

His benediction so, that in his seed 

All nations shall be blest : he straight obeys, 

Not knowing to what land, yet firm believes. 

I see him (but thou canst not), with what faith 

He leaves his gods, his Mends, and native soil, 

Ur of Chaldaea, passing now the ford 

To Haran ; after him a cumbrous train 

Of herds, and flocks, and numerous servitude ; 

Not wandering poor, but trusting all his wealth 

With God, who called him in a land unknown 

Canaan he now attains : I see Ms tents 

Pitched about Sichem, and the neighbouring plain 

Of Moreh ; there, by promise, he receives 

Gift to his progeny ol all that land, 

"From Hamath northward to the desert south 

(Things by their names I call, though yet unnamed) 

From Hermon east to the great western sea ; 

Mount Hermon, yonder sea ; each place behold 

In prospect, as I point them ; on the shore 

Mount Carmel ■ here the double-founted stream, 

Jordan, true limit eastward : but his sons 

Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of Mils. 

This ponder, that all nations of the earth 

Shall in his seed be blessed : by that seed 

1 Cf. Tosh. xxiv. 2. It mil be quite unnecessary *** point out tl 
v.ut 1/ aber oi' scriptural references in the following passage. 



> 



4* 



290 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xii. 149-198. 

[s meant thy great Deliverer, who sli&il bruise 

The serpent's head ; whereof to thee anon 

Plain] ter shall be revealed. Tins patriarch blest, 

Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, 

A son, and of his son a grandchild, leaves ; 

Like him in faith, in wisdom, and renown. 

The grandchild, with twelve sons increased, departs 

From Canaan, to a land hereafter called 

Egypt, divided by the river Nile : 

See where it flows, disgorging at seven mouths 

Into the sea. To sojourn in that land 

He comes, invited by a younger son 

Tn time of dearth ; a son, whose worthy deeds 

liaise him to be the second in that realm 

Of Pharaoh : there he dies, and leaves his race 

Growing into a nation ; and, now grown, 

Suspected to a sequent king, who seeks 

To stop their overgrowth, as inmate guests 

Too numerous; whence of guests he makes them slave! 

Inhospitably ; and kills then infant males ; 

Till by two brethren (these two brethren call 

Moses and Aaron) sent from God to claim 

His people from enthralment, they return 

With glory, and spoil, back to their promised land. 

But first the lawless tyrant, who denies 

To know their God, or message to regard, 

Must be compelled by signs, and judgments dure ; 

To blood unshed the livers must be turned ; 

Frogs, lice, and flies, must all his palace fill 

With loathed intrusion, and fill all the land ; 

His cattle must of rot and murrain die; 

Botches and blains must all his flesh emboss, 

And all his people ; thunder mixed with hail, 

Hail mixed with fire, must rend the Egyptian sky, 

And wheel on the earth, devouring where it rolls; 

What it devours not, herb, or fruit, or grain, 

A darksome cloud of locusts swarming down 

Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green; 

Darkness must overshadow all his bounds, 

Palpable darkness, and blot out three days : 

Last, with one midnight-stroke, all the first-born 

Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds 

The river- dragon tamed at length submits 

To let his sojourners depart, and oft 



K;> 



*^ 



' 



xii. 193-235. PARADISE LOST. 

Humbles Lis stubborn heart, but still, as ice 
More hardened after thaw: till in his rage 
Pursuing whom he late dismissed, the sea 
Swallows him with his host, but them lets pass, 
As on dry land, between two crystal walls, 
Awed by the rod of Moses so to stand 
Divided, till his rescued gain their shore : 
Such wondrous power God to his saint will lend, 
Though present in his angel, who shall go 
Before them in a cloud, and pillar of tire 
(By day a cloud, by night a pillar of fire). 
To guide them in their journey, and remove 
Behind them, while the obdurate king pursues. 
All night he will pursue ; but his approach 
Darkness defends between, till morning watch; 
Then through the fiery pillar, and the cloud, 
God looking forth will trouble all his host, 
And craze 1 their chariot-wheels: when, by coimnar.d, 
Moses once more his potent rod extends 
Over the sea ; the sea his rod obeys ; 
On their embattled ranks the waves return, 
And overwhelm their war. The race elect, 
Safe towards Canaan, from the shore advance 
Through the wild desert ; not the readiest way, 
Lest, entering on the Canaanite alarmed, 
War terrify them inexpert, and fear 
Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather 
Inglorious life with servitude; for life 
To noble and ignoble is more sweet 
Untrained in arms, where rashness leads not on. 
This also shall they gain by their delay 
In the wide wilderness : there they shall found 
Their government, and their great senate choose 
Through the twelve tribes, to rule by laws ordained 
God froin the mount of Sinai (whose gray top 
Shall tremble, he descending) will himself 
In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpets' sound, 
Ordain them laws ; pai t, such as appertain 
To civil justice, part, religious rites 
Of sacrifice ; informing them, by types 
A nd shadows, of that destined Seed to bruise 
The serpent, by what means he shall achieve 
Mankind's deliverance : but the voice of GcV 
1 Break to pieces. 
U 



¥ 



* 



^ 



«92 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xii. 236-275. 

To mortal ear is dreadful ; they beseech 

That Moses might report to them his will, 

And terror cease : he grants what they besought, 

Instructed that to God is no access 

Without Mediator, whose high office now 

Moses in figure hears, to introduce 

One greater, of whose clay he shall foretell , 

And all the prophets in their age the times 

Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus laws and rites 

Established, such delight hath God in men 

Obedient to his will, that he vouchsafes 

Among them to set up his tabernacle, 

The Holy One with mortal men to dwell 

By his prescript a sanctuary is framed 

Of cedar, overlaid with gold ; therein 

An ark, and in me ark his testimony, 

«rhe records of his covenant; over these 

A mercy-seat of gold, between the wings 

Of tv:c bright cherubim ; before him burn 

Seven lamps, as in a zodiac representing 

The heavenly fires j 1 over the tent a cloud 

Shall rest by day, a fiery gleam by night, 

Save when they journey : and at length they come, 

Conducted by his angel, to the land 

Promised to Abraham and his seed. The rest 

Were long to tell ; how many battles fought ; 

How many kings destroyed, and kingdoms won ; 

Or how the sun shall in mid-heaven stand still 

A day entire, and night's due course adjourn, 

Man's voice commanding, ' Sun, in Gibeon stand. 

And thou, moon, in the vale of Ajalon, 

Till Israel overcome ! ' so called the third 

From Abraham, son of Isaac ; and from him 

His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win." 

Here Adam interposed : " O sent from Heaver^ 
Enlight'ner of my darkness! gracious things 
Thou hast revealed ; those chiefly, which concern. 
Just Abraham and his seed: now first I find 
Mine eyes true opening, and my heart much eased, 
Erewhile perplexed with thoughts what would become 

That the seven lamps signified the seven planets, and that there 
fore the lamps stood slopewise, as it ^ere to express the obliquity o* 
6 he 7odiac, is the gloss of Josephus, from whori? pnbfbly oar nnthn- 
hoiTov/ed it. — Newton-. 



*» 



*w* 



<> 



w* 



r. xii. 276-319. PARADISE LOST. 293 

Oi me and all mankind ; but now 1 see 
His day, in whom all nations shall be blest, 
Favour unmerited by me, who sought 
Forbidden knowledge by forbidden means 
This yet I apprehend not, why to those 
Among whom God will deign to dwell on eartb 
So many and so various laws are given ; 
So many laws argue so many sins 
Among them; how can God with such reside ?" 

To whom thus Michael : " Doubt not but that sn, 
Will reign among them, as of thee begot; 
And therefore was law given them to evince 
Their natural pravity, by stirring up 
Sin against law to fight : that when they see 
Law can discover sin, but not remove, 
Save by those shadowy expiations weak, 
The blood of bulls and goats, they may conclude 
Some blood more precious must be paid for man, 
Just for unjust, that in such righteousness, 
To them by faith imputed, they may find 
Justification towards God, and peace 
Of conscience, which the law by ceremonies 
Cannot appease, nor man the moral part 
Perform ; and, not performing, cannot live. 
So law appeai-s imperfect, and but given 
With purpose to resign them in full time 
Up to a better covenant ; disciplined 
From shadowy types to truth ; from flesh to spirit , 
From imposition of strict laws to free 
Acceptance of large grace ; from servile fear 
To filial ; works of law to works of faith. 
And therefore shall not Moses, though of God 
Highly beloved, being but the minister 
Of law, his people into Canaan lead; 
But Joshua, whom the Gentiles Jesus call, 
His name and office bearing, who shall quell 
The adversary serpent, and bring back 
Through the worm's wilderness long-wandeired mac 
Safe to eternal Paradise of rest. 
Meanwhile they, in their earthly Canaan placed, 
Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sm^ 
National interrupt then- public peace, 
Provoking God to raise them enemies ; 
From whom as oft he sa^es them penitent 



4- 



4 



294 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, u. xn. 320-3^. 

By judges first, then under kings ; of whom 
The second, both for piety renowned 
And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive 
Irrevocable, that his regal throne 
For ever shall endure ; the like shall sing 
All prophecy, that of the royal stock 
Of David (so 1 name this king) shall rise 
A son, the woman's seed to thee foretold, 
Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust 
All nations ; and to kings foretold, of kings 
The last ; for of his reign shall be no end. 
But first, a long succession must ensue, 
And his next son, for wealth and wisdom famed. 
The clouded ark of God, till then in tents 
Wandering, shall in a glorious temple enshrihe. 
Such follow him as shall be registered, 
Part good, part bad, of bad the longer scroll, 
Whose foul idolatries, and other faults 
Heaped to the popular sum, will so incense 
God, as to leave them, and expose their land, 
Their city, his temple, and his holy ark, 
With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey 
To that proud city, whose high walls thou saw'st 
Left in confusion, Babylon thence called. 
There in captivity he lets them dwell 
The space of seventy years, then brings them back, 
Eemembering mercy, and his covenant sworn 
To David, 'stablished as the days of Heaven 
Be turned from Babylon by leave of kings, 
Their lords, whom God disposed, the house of God 
They first re-edify, and for a while 
In mean estate live moderate ; till, grown 
Xn wealth and multitude, factious they grow ; 
But first among the priests dissension springs; 
Men who attend the altar, and should most 
Endeavour peace : their strife pollution brings 
(Jpon the temple itself: at last they seize 
The sceptre, and regard not David's sons, 
Then lose it to a stranger, 1 that the true 
Anointed King, Messiah, might be bora 
Barred of his right; yet at his birth a star, 
Unseen before in Heaven, proclaims lrim come, 
AL<k guides the eastern sages, who inquire 
1 Hero' 1 



<f 



4* 



♦ah- 



b. xii. 363-406. PARADISE LOST. 295 

His place, to offer incense, myrrh, and gold . 

Kis place of birth a solemn angel tells 

To simple shepherds, keeping watch by night; 

They gladly thither haste, and by a quire 

Of squadroned angels hear his carol sung. 

A virgin is his mother, but his sire 

The power of the Most High ; he shall ascend 

The throne hereditary, and bound his reign 

With earth's wide bounds, his glory with the Heaves* 

He ceased, discerning Adam with such joy 
Surcharged, as had tike grief been dewed in tears, 
Without the vent of words, which these he breathed : 

" prophet of glad tidings ! finisher 
Of utmost hope ! now clear I understand 
vVhat oft my steadiest thoughts have searched in va'in •, 
Why our great expectation should be called 
■ The seed of woman ' Virgin mother, hail ! 
High in the love of Heaven ! yet from my loins 
Thou shalt proceed, and from thy womb the Son 
Of God Most High ; so God with man unites. 
Needs must the serpent now his capital bruise 
Expect with mortal pain : say where and when 
Their fight, what stroke shall bruise the victor's heel." 

To whom thus Michael : " Dream not of their fight 
As of a duel, or the local wounds 
Of head or heel : not therefore joins the Son 
Manhood to Godhead, with more strength to foil 
Thy enemy; nor so is overcome 
Satan, whose fall from Heaven, a deadlier bruise, 
Disabled not to give thee thy death's wound : 
Which he, who comes thy Saviour, shall re-cure, 
Not by destroying Satan, but his works 
In thee and in thy seed : nor can this be, 
But by fulfilling that which thou didst want, 
Obedience to the law of God, imposed 
On penalty of death, and suffering death, 
The penalty to thy transgression due, 
And due to theirs which out of thine will grow 
So only can high justice rest appaid. 
The law of God exact he shall fulfil 
Both by obedience and by love, though I079 
Mone fulfil the law ; thy punishment 
He shall endure by coming in the flesh 
To a reproachful life and cursed death, 



♦<p 



- CJ7* 



np* 



■Hrr 



J 



296 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xii. 407-449- 



Proclaiming life to all who shall believe 
In his redemption, and that his obedience 
Imputed becomes theirs by laith, his merits 
To save them, not their own, though legal, works. 
For this he shall live hated, be blasphemed, 
Seized on by force, judged, and to death condemned 
A shameful and accursed ; nailed to the cross 
By his own nation ; slain for bringing life : 
But to the cross he nails thy enemies, 
The law that is against thee, and the sins 
Of all mankind, with him there crucified, 
Never to hurt them more who rightly trust 
In this his satisfaction : so he dies, 
But soon revives ; death over him no power 
Shall long usurp ; ere the third dawning light 
Return, the stars of morn shall see liim rise 
Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light. 
Thy ransom paid, which man from death redeems, 
His death for man, as many as offered life 
Neglect not, and the benefit embrace 
By faith not void of works ; this God-like act 
Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have died 
In sin for ever lost from life ; this act 
Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength, 
Defeating sin and death, his two main arms, 
And fix far deeper in his head their stings 
Than temporal death shall bruise the victor's heel, 
Or theirs whom he redeems, a death like sleep, 
A gentle wafting to immortal life. 
Nor after resurrection shall he stay 
Longer on earth than certain times to appear 
To his disciples, men who in his life 
Still followed him ; to them shall leave m charge 
To teach all nations what of him they learned 
And his salvation, them who shall believe, 
Baptizing in the profluent stream, the sign 
Of washing them from guilt of sin to life 
Pure, and in mind prepared, if so befall, 
For death, like that which the 1 Redeemer died. 
Kll nations they shall teach ; for, from that day, 
Not only to the tons of Abraham's loins 
(Salvation shall be preached, but to the sons 
Of Abraham's faith wherever through the world; 
1 BenUey prefers "their." 



A 



4$* 



*&* ^ 

b. xii. 450-493. PARADISE LOST. 297 

So in his seed all nations shall be blest. 

Then to the Heaven of Heavens he shall ascend 

With victory, triumphing through the air 

Over his foe"s and thine; there shall surprise 

The serpent, prince of air, and drag in chains 

Through all his realm, and there confounded leave ; 

Then enter into glory, and resume 

His seat at God's right hand, exalted high 

Above all names in Heaven ; and thence shall come, 

When this world's dissolution shall be ripe, 

With glory and power to judge both quick and dead, 

To judge the unfaithful dead, but to reward 

His faithful, and receive them into bliss, 

Whether in Heaven or earth; for then the earth 

Shall all be Paradise, far happier place 

Than this of Eden, and far happier days." 

So spake the archangel Michael ; then paused, 
As at the world's great peiiod ; and our sire, 
Replete with joy and wonder, thus replied : 

" Oh, goodness infinite i goodness immense ! 
That all this good oi evil shall produce, 
And evil turn to good ; more wonderful 
Than that which by creation first brought forth 
Light out of darkness ; full of doubt I stand, 
Whether I should repent me now of sin 
By me done and occasioned, or rejoice 
Much more, that much more good thereof shall sprinp 
To God more glory, more good-will to men 
From God, and over wrath grace shall abound. 
But say, if our Deliverer up to Heaven 
Must reascend, what will betide the few 
His faithful, left among the unfaithful herd, 
The enemies of truth? Who then shall guide 
His people ? who defend ? Will they not deal 
Worse with his followers than with him they dealt V" 

" Be sure they will," said the angel; " but from Heaven 
He to his own a Comforter will send, 
The promise of the Father, who shall dwell 
His Spirit within them, and the law of faith 
Working through love, upon their hearts shall wr .* 
To guide them in all truth, and also arm 
With spiritual armour, able to resist 
Satan's assaults, and quench his fiery darts : 
Wtat man can do against them, not afraid, 



•^- 






* 



298 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xn. 494-53* 

Though to the death ; against such cruelties 

With inward consolations recompensed, 

And oft supported so as shall amaze 

Their proudest persecutors ; for the Spirit, 

Poured first on his apostles, whom he scads 

To evangelize the nations, then on all 

Baptized, shall them with wondrous gifts endue 

To speak all tongues, and do all miracles, 

As did their Lord before them Thus they win 

Oreat numbers of each nation to receive 

With joy the tidings brought from Heaven : at 2engCU 

Their ministry performed, and race well run, 

Their doctrine and their story written left, 

They die ; but in their room, as they forewarn, 

Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, 

Who all the sacred mysteries of Heaven 

To their own vile advantages shall turn 

Of lucre and ambition, and the truth 

With superstitions and traditions taint 

Left only in those written records pure, 

Though not but by the Spirit understood 

Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names, 

Places, and titles, and with thesp to join 

Secular power, though feigning still to act 

By spiritual, to themselves appropriating 

The Spirit of God, promised alike and given 

To all believers ; and from that pretence, 

Spiritual laws by carnal power shall force 

On every conscience ; laws which none shall find 

Left them enrolled , or what the Spirit within 

Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then 

But force the Spirit of grace itself, and bind 

His consort liberty ? what, but unbuild 

His living temples, built by faith to stand. 

Their own faith, not another's? for on earth 

Who against faith and conscience can be heaid 

Infallible ? yet many will presume : 

Whence heavy persecution shall arise 

On all who in the worship persevere 

Of spirit and truth ; the rest, far greater part, 

Will deem in outward rites and specious torna 

Religion satisfied ; truth shall retire 

Bestruck with slanderous darts, and woiks of faith 

Rarely 1 <3 found: so shall the world go ou, 



o 



4* 



b. xii. 533-573. PARADISE LOST. 29c 

To good malignant, to bad men benign, 

Under her own weight groaning, till the day 

Appear of respiration to the just, 

And vengeance to the Tricked, at return 

Of him so lately promised to thy aid, 

The woman's Seed, obscurely then foretold, 

Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord, 

Last in the clouds from Heaven to be revealed 

In glory of the Father, to dissolve 

Satan with his perverted world, then raise 

From the conflagrant mass, purged and refined, 

New heavens, new earth, 1 ages of endless date 

Founded in righteousness and peace and love, 

To bring forth fruits, joy, and eternal bliss." 

He ended ; and thus Adam last replied : 
" How soon hath thy prediction, seer blest, 
Measured this transient world, the race of time, 
Till time stand fixed ! Beyond is all abyss, 
Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. 
Greatly instructed, I shall hence depai t, 
Greatly in peace of thought, and have my fill 
Of knowledge, what this vessel can contain ; 
Beyond which was my folly to aspire. 
Henceforth I learn that to obey is best, 
And love with fear the only God, to walk 
As in his presence, ever to observe 
His providence, and on him sole depend, 
Merciful over all his works, with good 
Still overcoming evil, and by small 
Accomplishing great things ; by things deemea weal? 
Subverting worldly strong ; and worldly wise 
By simply meek : that suffering for truth's sake 
Is fortitude to highest victory, 
And to the faithful death the gate of life : 
Taught this by his example, whom I now 
Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest." 

1 The very words of St. Peter, 2 Peter, iii. 13 : — " Nevertheless mp. 
according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new earth^ 
wherein dwelleth righteousness." This notion of the heavens and 
earth being renewed after the conflagration, and made the habitation 
of angels and just men made perfect, was very pleasing to our author, 
hs it was to Dr. Burnet, and must be to every one of a fine and 
exalted imagination ; and Milton has enlarged upon it in several 
parts of his works, and particularly in this poam, iii. 333, &c, r.. 638 
ri. 65, 900, xii. ±§1~-Xewton. 

^ *^ 



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300 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. xn. 574 -609. 

To whom thus also the angel last replied : 
" This having learned, thou hast attained the sum 
Of wisdom: hope no higher, though all the stars 
Thou knew'st hy name, and all the ethereal powers, 
All secrets of the deep, all nature's works, 
Or works of God in Heaven, air, earth, or sea, 
And all the riches of this world enjoyedst, 
And all the rule, one empire ; only add 
Deeds to thy knowledge answerable ; add faith 
Add virtue, patience, temperance ; add love, 
By name to come called charity, the soul 
Of all the rest : then wilt thou not be loth 
To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess 
A Paradise within thee, happier far. 
Let us descend now, therefore, from this top 
Of speculation ; l for the hour precise 
Exacts our parting hence ; and see, the guards, 
By me encamped on yonder hill, expect 
Their motion, at whose front a flaming sword, 
Tn signal of remove, waves fiercely round ; 
We may no longer stay . go, waken Eve ; 
Her also I with gentle dreams have calmed 
Portending good, and all her spirits composed 
To meek submission : thou at season fit 
Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard, 
Chiefly what may concern her faith to know, 
The great deliverance by her seed to come 

I (For by the woman's seed) on all mankind : 

That ye may live, which will be many days, 
Both in one faith unanimous, though sad, 
With cause, for evils past, yet much more cheered 
With meditation on the happy end." 

I He ended, and they both descend the hill ; 

Descended, Adam to the bower where Eve 
Lay sleeping ran before, but found her waked ; 
And thus with words not sad she him received : 8 

1 i. e. this height of vision, this hill of prophecy and prediction. 

2 Milton's poem ends very nobly. The last speeches of Adam ana 
the archangel are full of moral and instructive sentiments. The 
sleep that fell upon Eve, and the effects it had in quieting the 
disorders of her mind, produce the same kind of consolation in the 
reader, who cannot peruse the last beautiful speech which is ascribed 
to the mother of mankind, without a secret pleasure and satisfaction. 
The following lines, which conclude the poem, rise in a most gloriou? 
blaze ci'jioetical images and expressions. — Addison, 

^ ^ 



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*fy 



6. xii. 610-644. PARADISE LOST. 3°* 

" Whence thou return' st, and whither went'st, I knovr ; 
For God is also in sleep ; and dreams advise, 
Which lie hath sent propitious, some great good 
Presaging, since, with sorrow and heart's distress, 
Wearied I fell asleep : but now lead on ; 
In me is no delay ; with thee to go, 
Is to stay here ; without thee here to stay, 
is to go hence unwilling ; thou to me 
Art all things under Heaven, all places thou, 
Who for my wilful crime art banished hence 
This further consolation, yet secure, 
I cany hence ; though all by me is lost, 
Such favour I unworthy am vouchsafed, 
By me the promised Seed shall all restore !' ? 

So spake our mother Eve, and Adam heard, 
Well pleased, but answered not ; for now too nigh 
The archangel stood, and from the other h ill 
To their fixed station, all in bright array, 
The cherubim descended ; on the ground, 
Gliding meteorous, 1 as evening mist, 
Risen from a river, o'er the marish 2 glides, 
And gathers ground fast at the labourer's heel, 
Homeward returning. High in front advanced, 
The brandished sword of God before them blazed, 
Fierce as a comet ; which with ton-id iisat, 
And vapour as the Lybian air aaust, 
Began to parch that temperate clime ; whereat, 
In either hand the hastening angel caught 
Our lingering parents, and to the eastern gate 
Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast 
To the subjected plain ; then disappeared 
They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld 
Of Paradise, so late then haprry seat, 
Waved over by that flaming brand ; the gate, 
With dreadful faces thronged, and fiery arms : 

Heliodorus, in his Ethiopics, acquaints us that tiie motion of ths 
gods differs from that of mortals, as the former do not stir their feet> 
nor proceed step by step, but slide o'er the surface of the earth by an 
■uniform swimming of the whole body. The reader may observe witL 
now poetical a description Milton has attributed the same kiud of 
lotion to the angels who were to take possession of Paradise. — 
Addison, 

An old word for marsh, of the French marais, and of tJ;a Latin 
marincus, rushes commonly growing tbprc. The word o tfurr, in 
t Macca.b. ix. 1% 



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302 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. »• xn. 645-643. 

Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soor^ 
The world was all before them, where to choose 
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide ; 
They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow 
Through Eden took their solitary waj\ 



■ 

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*W" 



<> 



303 



"arabise Jkpkk* 



BOOK I. 

I, wno erewhile the happy garden sung, 
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing 
Recovered Paradise to all mankind, 
By one man's firm obedience fully tried 
Through all temptation, and the tempter foiled 
In all his wiles, defeated and repulsed, 
And Eden raised in the waste wilderness. 

Thou Spirit, who ledst this glorious eremite 3 
Into the desert, his victorious field, 
Against the spiritual foe, and brought him thence, 
By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire, 
As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute, 
And bear through height or depth of nature's bounds 
With prosperous wing full summed, 3 to tell of deeds 
Above heroic, though in secret done, 
And unrecorded left through many an age; 
Worthy to have not remained so long unsung. 

Now had the great proclaimer, with a voice 
More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried 

1 "Paradise Regained," observes Jortin, "has not met with the 
approbation that it deserves. It has not the harmony of numbers, 
the sublimity of thought, and the beauties of diction, which are in 
' Paradise Lost ' It is composed in a lower and less striking style. 
style suited to the subject. Artful sophistry, false reasoning, set off 
in the most specious manner, and refuted by the Son of God -with 
strong unaffected eloquence, is the peculiar excellence of this poem. 
Satan there defends a bad cause with great skill and subtlety, as one 
thoroughly versed in that craft." 

8 The same as our "hermit." 

s So in Paradise Lost, vii. 421 :— " They summed their pens." The 
furm ij properly applied to a hawk in full feather- 



r 



304 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. b. i. 20-58 

Repentance, and Heaven's kingdom nigh at hand, 
To all baptized: 1 to his great baptism flocked 
With awe the regions round, and with them came 
From Nazareth the son of Joseph deemed 
To the flood Jordan, came as then obscure, 
Unmarked, unknown ; but him the Baptist soor. 
Descried, divinely warned, and witness bore- 
As to hid worthier, and would have resigned 
To him his heavenly office, nor was long 
His witness an confirmed : on him baptized 
Heaven opened and, in likeness of a dove, 
'The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice 
From Heaven pronounced him his beloved Son. 
That heard the adversary, who, roving still 
About the world, at that assembly famed 
Would not be last; and with the voice divine 
Nigh thunder-struck, the exalted Man, to whom 
Such high attest was given, a while surveyed 
With wonder; then, with envy fraught and rage 
Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air 
To council summons all his mighty peers, 
Within thick clouds, and dark, tenfold involved, 
A gloomy consistory; 2 and them amidst, 
With looks aghast and sad, he thus bespake: 

" ancient powers of air 3 and this wide world. 
For much more willingly I mention air, 
This our old conquest, than remember Hell, 
Our hated habitation; well ye know 
How many ages, as the years of men, 
This universe we have possessed, and ruled, 
In manner at our will, the affairs of earth, 
Since Adam and his facile consort Eve 
Lost Paradise, deceived by me, though since 
With dread attending 4 when that fatal wound 
Shall be inflicted by the seed of Eve 
Upon my head : long the decrees of Heaven 
Delay, for longest time to him is short ; 
And now, too soon for us, the circling hours 
This dreaded time have compassed, wherein wo 

1 i. e. to such bb vwe baptized, since by John's baptism thej vr.-rf 
prepared for the reception of the Gospel. 

2 Milton probabb" uses this term with a sly reference to the meel 
fogs of the Pope and his Cardinals, under "ihe same name. 

* Cf. Eph ii. 2; vi. 13 4 Awaiting. 



4* 



i> 



b. i. 59-97- PARADISE REGAINED. 305 

Must bide the stroke of that long-threatened wound, 

At least, if so we can, and by the head 

Broken be not intended all our power 

To be infringed, our freedom and our being, 

In this fair empire won of earth and air : 

For this ill news I bring, the woman's seed 

Destined to this, is late of woman born ; 

His birth to our just fear gave no small cause, 

But his grow tli now to youth's full flower, displaying 

All virtue, grace, and wisdom to achieve 

Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear. 

Before him a great prophet, to proclaim 

His coming, is sent harbinger, who all 

Invites, and in the consecrated stream 

Pretends to wash off sin, and fit them so 

Purified to receive him pure, or, rather, 

To do him honour as their king; all come, 

And he himself among them was baptized, 

Not thence to be more pure, but to receive 

The testimony of Heaven, that who v ? is 

Thenceforth the nations may not douDt; I saw 

The prophet do him reverence ; on him rising 

Out of the water, Heaven above the clouds 

Unfold her crystal doors; thence on his head 

A perfect dove descend, whate'er it meant; 

And out of Heaven the sovran voice I heard, 

' This is my Son beloved, in him am pleased.' 

His mother then is mortal, but his She 

He who obtains the monarchy of Heaven, 

And what will he not do to advance his Son? 

His first-begot we know, and sore have felt, 

When his fierce thunder drove us to the deep; 

Who this is we must learn, 1 for man he seems 

iti all his lineaments, though in his face 
The glimpses of his Father's glory shine. 
Ye see our danger on the utmost edge 
Of hazard, which admits no long debate, 
But must with something sudden be opposed 

(Not force, but well-couched fraud, well woven snares) 

1 Oar author favours the opinion of Ignatius &nd others, who believed 
that the devil, though he might know Jesus to be some extraordinary 
person, yet knew hini not to be the Messiah, the Son of God; and the 
words of the devil, " if thou be the Son of God," seem to express bis 
uncertainty concerning that matter. — Newton. 



H F~ 



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K) i t 






306 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 11. 1. B 8- 138. 

Ere in the head of nations he appear, 

Their king, their leader, and supreme on earth. 

I, when no other durst, sole undertook 

The dismal expedition to find out 

And ruin Adam, and the exploit performed 

Successfully ; a calmer voyage now 

Will waft me; and the way found prosperous 011^8 

Induces best to hope of like success." 

He ended ; and his words impression left 
Of much amazement to the infernal crew, 
Distracted and surprised with deep dismay 
At these sad tidiugs; but no time was then 
For long indulgence to their fears or grief: 
Unanimous they all commit the care 
And management of this main enterprise 
To him their great dictator, whos' 1 attempt 
At first against mankind so well had thrived 
In Adam's overthrow, and led their march 
From Hell's deep-vaulted den to dwell in light, 
Regents, and potentates, and Idugs, yea gods, 
Of many a pleasant realm and province wide 
So to the coast of Jordan he directs 
His easy steps, girded with snaky wiles, 1 
Where he might likeliest find this new-declared, 
This man of men, attested Son of God, 
Temptation and all guile on him to try ; 
So to subvert whom he suspected raised 
To end his reign on earth, so long enjoyed ; 
But, contrary, unweeting he fulfilled 
The purposed counsel pre ordained and fixed 
Of the Most High, who, in full frequence bright 
Of angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake : 

" Gabriel, tins day by proof thou shalt behold. 
Thou and all angels conversant on earth 
With man or men's affairs, how I begin 
To verily that solemn message, late 
On which I sent thee to the virgin pure 
In Galilee, that she should bear* a Son 
Great in renown, and called the Son of God; 
Then told'st her, doubting how these things could he 
To her a virgin, that on her should come 

* Alluding tc the habit of sorcerers and necromancers, who ar« 
represented in some prints as girded about the middle with the 6kiit« 
otf'onakcs and Jerpcnta. 



"V 



T 



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b. i. 139-w. PARADISE REGAINED. 307 

The Holy Ghost, and the power of the Highest 

O'ershadow her : this man born and now up-grcwa. 

To show him worthy of his birth divine 

And high prediction, henceforth I expose 

To Satan ; let him tempt and now assay 

His utmost subtlety, because he boasts 

.ind vaimts of his great cunning to the throng 

Of his apostacy : he might have learned 

Less overweening, since he failed in Job, 

Whose constant perseverance overcame 

Whate'er his cruel maHce could invent 

He now shall know I can produce a man 

Of female seed, far abler to resist 

All his solicitations, and at length 

All his vast force, and drive him back to Hell, 

Winning by conquest what the first man lost 

I3y fallacy surprised. But first I mean 

To exercise him in the wilderness; 

There he shall first lay down the rudiments 

Of his great warfare, ere I send him forth 

To conquer Sin and Death, the two grand foes, 

By humiliation and strong sufferance : 

His weakness shall o'ercome Satanic strength, 

And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh ; 

That all the angels and ethereal powers, 

They now, and men hereafter, may discern, 

From what consummate virtue I have chose 

This perfect man, by merit called my Son, 

To earn salvation for the sons of men." 

So spake the eternal Father, and all Heaven 
Admiring stood a space ; then into hymns 
Burst forth, and in celestial measures mo\rd, 
Circling the throne and singing, while the hand 
Sung with the voice ; and this the argument : 

" Victory and triumph to the Son of God 
Now entering his great duel, 1 not of arms, 
But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles. 
The father knows the Son; therefore secure 
Ventures his filial virtue, though untried, 
\gainst whate'er may tempt, whate'er seduce, 
Allure, or terrify, or undermine. 

1 Battle, not necessarily between two parties, but for duett ^i, in\ 
Jot leUun. ^ 

1 : . 4 



f 



4 



308 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 180-323, 



Be frustrate, all ye stratagems of Hell, 
And devilish machinations come to nought." 

So they in Heaven then- odes and vigils tuned , 
Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some days 
Lodged in Bethahara where John baptized, 
Musing, and much revolving in his breast, 
How best the mighty work he might begin 
Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first 
publish his Godlike office now mature, 
One day forth walked alone, the Spirit leading, 
And Ms deep thoughts, the better to converse 
With solitude, till far from track of men, 
Thought following thought, and step by step led on 
He entered now the bordering desert wild, 
And, with dark shades and rocks environed round, 
His holy meditations thus pursued j 

"Oh, what a multitude of thoughts at once 
Awakened in me swarm, while I consider 
What from within I feel myself, and hear 
What from without comes often to my ears, 
111 sorting with my present state compared! 
When I was yet a child, no childish play 
To me was pleasing : all my mind was set 
Serious to learn and know, and thence to do 
What might be public good ; myself I thought 
"Born to that end, born to promote all truth, 
All righteous things : therefore, above my years, 
The law of God I read, and found it sweet ; 
Made it my whole delight ; and in it grew 
To such perfection, that ere yet my age 
Had measured twice six years, at our great feast 
I went into the temple, there to hear 
The teachers of our law, and to propose 
What might improve my knowledge or their own, 
And was admired by all. Yet this not all 
To which my spirit aspired : victorious deeds 
Flamed in my heart, heroic acts ; one while 
To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke, 
Then to subdue and quell o'er all the earth 
Brute violence and proud tyrannic power, 
Till truth were freed, and equity restored ; 
Yet held it more humane, more heavenly, first 
By winning words to conquer willing hearts, 
And moke perp«a««Qii do the work of fear; 



. ■!,- 



Y : — 4* 

u. i. 224-267. PARADISE REGAINED. 309 

At least to try, and teach the erring soul 

Not wilfully misdoing, but unware 

Misled ; the stubborn only to subdue. 

Uhese growing thoughts my mother soon perceiving. 

By words at times cast forth, inly rejoiced, 

And said to me apart : ' High are thy thoughts, 

son ! but nourish them, and let them soar 
To what height sacred virtue and true worth 
Can raise them, though above example high ; 
By matchless deeds express thy matchless Sin* 
For know, thou art no son of mortal man : 
Though men esteem thee low of parentage, 
Thy father is the eternal King who rules 
All Heaven and earth, angels and sons of men ; 
A messenger from God foretold thy birth 
Conceived in me a virgin ; he foretold 
Thou shouldst be great, and sit on David's throne, 
And of thy kingdom there should be no end. 
At thy nativity a glorious quire 
Of angels in the fields of Bethlehem sung 
To shepherds watching at their folds by night, 
And told them the Messiah now was born, 
Where they might see him, and to thee they came, 
Directed to the manger where thou lay'st, 
For in the inn was left no better room : 
A star, not seen before, in Heaven appearing, 
Guided the wise men thither from the east, 
To honour thee with incense, myrrh, and gold, 
By whose bright course led on they found the plac©; 
Affirming it thy star* new graven in Heaven, 
By which they knew the King of Israel born. 
Just Simeon and prophetic Anna, warned 
By vision, found thee in the temple, and spake, 
Before the altar and the vested priest, 
Like things of thee to all that present stood.' 

" This having heard, straight I again revolved 
The law and prophets, searching what was writ 
Concerning the Messiah, to our scribes 
Known partly, and soon found of whom they spaks 

1 am ; this chiefly, that my way must lie 
Through many a hard assay even to the death, 
Ere I the promised kingdom can attain, 
Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins' 
Full weight must be transferred upon my heed. 



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> 



Sao MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. i. 268-311. 

Yet neither thus disheartened or dismayed, 

The time prefixed I waited, when behold 

The Baptist (of whose birth I oft had heard, 

Not knew by sight) now come, who was to come 

.Before Messiah, and his way prepare. 

T as all others to Ms baptism came,- 

Which I believed was from above ; but he 

Straight knew me, and with loudest voice proclaimed 

Me him (for it was shown him so from Heaven), 

Me him whose harbinger he was; and first 

! Refused on me his baptism to confer, 

As much his greater, and was hardly won : 
But as I rose out of the laving stream, 
Heaven opened her eternal doors, from whence 
The Spirit descended on me like a dove, 
And last the sum of all, my Father's voice, 
A udibly heard from Heaven, pronounced me his, 
Me his beloved Son, in whom alone ' 
He was well pleased ; by which I knew the time 
Now full, that I no more should live obscure, 
But openly begin, as best becomes 
The authority which I derived from Heaven. 
And now by some strong motion I am led 
Into this wilderness, to what intent 
\ learn not yet, perhaps I need not know ; 
ior what concerns my knowledge God reveals." 
So spake our Morning Star, then in his rise, 
And looking round on every side beheld 
A pathless desert, dusk with horrid shades; 
The way he came not having marked, return 
Was difficult, by human steps untrod ; 
And he still on was led, but with such thoughts 
Accompanied of things past and to come 
Lodged in his breast, as well might recommeu^ 
Such solitude before choicest society. 
Full forty days he passed, whether on hill 
Sometimes, anon in shady vale, each night 
Under the covert of some ancient oak, 
Or cedar, to defend him from the dew, 
Or harboured in one cave, is not revealed; 
Nor tasted human food, nor hunger felt 
Till those days ended, hungered then at last 
' Among wild beasts: they at his sight grew milcl 
I'Tor Bleeping him nor yaking harmnd ; his walk 



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PARADISE REGAINED 



Among wild beasts ; they at his sight grew mild. 
Nor sleeping, him, nor waking harmed. 



b.i. 312-343- PARADISE REGAINED. 311 

The fiery serpent fled, and noxious wornij 
The lion and fierce tiger glared aloof. 
But now an aged man 1 in rural weeds, 
Following, as seemed, the quest of some stray ewe. 
Or withered sticks to gather, which might serve 
Against a winter's day when winds blow keen, 
To warm him wet returned from field at eve, 
He saw approach, who first with curious eye 
Perused him, then with words thus uttexod spake : 

" Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this pla^e, 
So far iiom path or road of men, who pass 
In troop or caravan ? for single none 
Durst ever, who returned, and dropped not here 
His carcass, pined with hunger and with drouth 
I ask the rather, and the more admire, 
For that to me thou seem'st the man, whom late 
Our new baptizing prophet at the ford 
Of Jordan honoured so, and called thee Son 
Of God ; I saw and heard, for we sometimes 
Who dwell this wild, constrained by want, come forth 
To town or village nigh (nighest is far) 
Where aught we hear, and curious are to hear, 
What happens new; fame also finds us out." 

To whom the Son of God: "Who brought me hither, 
Will bring me hence ; no other guide I seek." 

" By miracle he may," replied the swain, 
■ What other way I see not, for we here 
Live on tough roots and stubs, 2 to thirst inured 
More than the camel, 3 and to drink go far, 
Men to much misery and hardship born : 
But if thou be the Son of God, command 
That out of these hard stones be made thee bread ; 

As the Scripture is entirely silent about what personage tne 
tempter assumed, the poet was at liberty to indulge his own fancy j 
and nothing, I think, could be better conceived for his present pur* 
pose, or more likely to prevent suspicion of fraud. The poet might, 
perhaps, take the hint from a design of David Kirkboon's, where the 
devil is represented addressing himself to our Saviour, under the. 
appearance of an old man. — Thyer. 

2 Although this word is used both by Chaucer and Spenser U 
signify a stock or clump, still the uense seems to require " shrubs," 
as is proposed by Thyer. 

3 On the endurance of thirst by the camel, see Plin. H. N. viii, 26. 
Taverner says that >t will ordinarily live without drink eight or nint 
days. 



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*4h ^ 

312 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. 1. 344-386. 



So shalt thou save thyself and us relieve 
With food, whereof we wretched seldom taste." 

He ended, and the Son of God replied : 
" Think'st thou such force in hread ? Is it not v;i ittea 
(For I discern thee other than thou seem'st) 
Man lives not by bread only, but each word 
Proceeding from the mouth of God, who fed 
Our fathers here with manna? In the mount 
Moses was forty days, nor ate nor drank ; 
And forty days Elijah without food 
Wandered this barren waste ; the same I now: 
Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust, 
Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art ? " 

Whom thus answered the arch-fiend now undisguised : 
" Tis true, I am that spirit unfortunate, 
Who, leagued with millions more in rash revolt, 
Kept not my happy station, but was driven 
With them from bliss to the bottomless deep ; 
Yet to that hideous place not so confined 
By rigour unconniving, but that oft 
Leaving my dolorous prison I enjoy 
Large liberty to round this globe of earth, 
Or range in the air, nor from the Heaven of Heavens 
Hath he excluded my resort sometimes. 
I came among the sons of God, when he 
Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job 
To prove him, and illustrate his high worth ■ 
And when to all his angels he proposed 
To draw the proud king Ahab into fraud 
That he might fall in Kamoth, 1 they demurring, 
I undertook that office, and the tongues 
Of all his flattering prophets glibbed with lies 
To his destruction, as I had in charge ; 
For what he bids I do. Though I have lost 
Much lustre of my native brightness, lost 
To be beloved of God, I have not lost 
To love, at least contemplate and admire 
What I see excellent in good, or fair, 
Or virtuous, I should so have lost all sense 
What can be then less in me than desire 
To see thee and approach thee, whoJn I know 
Declared the Son of God, to hear attent 2 
Thy wisdom, and behold thy Godlike deeds? 
1 See 1 Kings, xxii. 19, aqq. 2 Attentively. 



». i. 387-430. PARADISE REGAINED. 313 

Men generally think me such a foe 
To all mankind : why should I ? they to me 
Never did wrong or violence ; hy them 
I lost not what I lost, rather hy them 
I gained what I have gained, and with them dwell 
Copartner in these regions of the world, 
If not disposer ; lend them oft my aid, 
Oft my advice hy presages and signs, 
And answers, oracles, portents, and dreams, 
Whereby they may direct their future life. 
Envy they say excites me thus to gain 
Companions of my misery and woe. 
At first it may he ; hut long since with woe 
Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof, 
That fellowship in pain divides not smart, 
Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load. 
Small consolation then, were men adjoined: 
This wounds me most (what can it less ?) that man, 
Man fallen shall be restored ; I never more." 
To whom our Saviour sternly thus replied : 
" Deservedly thou griev'st, composed of lies 
From the beginning, and in lies wilt end ; 
Who boast' st release from Hell, and leave to come 
Into the Heaven of Heavens. Thou com'st indeed: 
As a poor miserable captive thrall 
Comes to the place where he before had sat 
Among the prime in splendour, now deposed, 
Ejected, emptied, gazed, unpitied, shunned, 
A spectacle of ruin or of scorn 
To all the host of Heaven : the happy place 
Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy, 
Rather inflames thy torment, representing 
Lost bliss to thee no more communicable, 
So never more in Hell than when in Heaven 
But thou art serviceable to Heaven's King. 
Wilt thou impute to obedience what thy fear 
Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites? 
What but thy malice moved thee to misdeei?:- 
Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him 
With all inflictions? but his patieuce won. 
The other service was thy chosen task, 
To be a liar in four hundred mouths ■ 
For lying is thy sustenance, thy food. 
Yet thou pretend'st to truth ; all oracles 



*4v 



*^4 _ ^ 

314 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. 1. 431-472. 

By thee are given, and what confessed more true 

Among the nations? that hath been thy craft, 

By mixing somewhat true to vent more lies. 

But what have been thy answers, what but dark, 

Ambiguous, and with double sense deluding, 

Which they who asked have seldom understood 

And not well understood as good not known ? 

Whoever, by consulting at thy shrine, 

Returned the wiser, or the more instruct 

To fly or follow what concerned him most, 

A.nd run not sooner to his fatal snare ? 

For God hath justly given the nations up 

To thy delusions ; justly, since they fell 

Idolatrous : but when his purpose is 

Among them to declare his providence 

To thee not known, whence'hast thou then thy truth 

But from him or his angels president 

[n every province? who, themselves disdaining 

To approach thy temples, give thee in command 

What to the smallest tittle thou shalt say 

To thy adorers; thou with trembling fear, 

Or like a fawning parasite, obey'st ; 

Then to thyself ascrilfst the truth foretold. 

But this thy glory shall be soon retrenched ; 

No more shalt thou by oracling abuse 

The Gentiles : henceforth oracles are ceased, 

And thou no more with pomp and sacrifice 

Shalt be inquired at Delphos 1 or elsewhere, 

At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute. 

God hath now sent his living oracle 

Into the world to teach his final will, 

And sends his Spirit of truth henceforth to dwell 

In pious hearts, an inward oracle 

To all truth requisite for men to know." 

So spake our Saviour ; but the subtle fiend, 
Though inly stung with anger and disdain, 
Dissembled, and this answer smooth returned i- 

" Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke, 
And urged me hard with doings, which not will 
But misery hath wrested from me : where 
Easily canst thou find one miserable, 
And not enforced oft-times to part from truth; 



1 Mere rightly " Delphi," but the mistake is a common oa© 



> ' 



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b. i. 473-". 4- PARADISE REGAINED. 315 

[f it may stand him. more in stead to he, 

Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure ? 

But thou art placed above me, thou art Lord ; 

From thee I can and must submiss endure 

Check or reproof, and glad to 'scape so quit. 

Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk, 

Smooth on the tongue discoursed, pleasing to the ear, 

And tuneable as sylvan pipe or song; 

What wonder then if I delight to hear 

Her dictates from thy mouth ? Most men admire 

Virtue, who follow not her lore : permit me 

To hear thee when I come (since no man comes) 

And talk at least, though I despair to attain. 

Thy Father, who is holy, wise, and pure, 

Suffers the hypocrite or atheous priest 

To tread his sacred courts, and minister 

About his altar, handling holy things, 

Praying or vowing, and vouchsafed his voice 

To Balaam reprobate, a prophet yet 

Inspired ; disdain not such access to me." 

To whom our Saviour with unaltered brow. 
" Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope, 
I bid not or forbid; do as thou find'st 
Permission from above ; thou canst not more." 

He added not ; and Satan, bowing low 
His gray dissimulation, disappeared 
Into thin air diffused : for now began 
Night with her sullen wings to double-shade 
The desert ; fowls in their clay nests were couched ; 
And now wild beasts came forth the woods to roam. 



BOOK H. 

Meanwhile the new-baptized, who yet remained 
At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen 
Him whom they heard so late expressly called 
Jesus Messiah, Son of God declared, 1 

1 This is a great mistake of the poet. All that the people could 
collect from the declarations of John the Baptist, and the voice from 
Heaven, was, that he was a great prophet, and this was all they did is 
fact collect ; they were uncertain whether he was their promised 
Messiah. — Warburton. 



#* 



4- 



4" 



316 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 8.11.5-42. 

And on that high authority had believed, 

And with him talked, and with him lodged, I mean 

Andrew and Simon, famous after known, 

With others, though in holy writ not named, 

Now missing him their joy so lately found, 

So lately found, and so abruptly gone, 

Began to doubt, and doubted many days, 

And as the days increased, increased their doubt , 

Sometir.ies they thought he might be only shown, 

And fo/ a time caught up to God, as once 

Moses was in the mount, and missing long ; 

And the great Thisbite, who on fiery wheels 

Bode up to Heaven, yet once again to come. 

Therefore as those young prophets then with care 

Sought lost Elijah, 1 so in each place these 

Nigh to Bethabara; in Jericho 

The city of palms, 2 iEnon, and Salem old, 8 

Machaerus, 4 and each town or city walled 

On this side the broad lake Genezaret, 

Or in Peraea ; but returned in vain. 

Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek, 

Where winds with reeds and osiers whispering play, 

Plain fishermen, no greater men them call, 5 

Close in a cottage low together got, 

Their unexpected loss and plaints out-breathed : 

" Alas, from what high hope to what relrapee 
Unlooked for are we fallen ! our eyes beheld 
Messiah certainly now come, so long 
Expected of our fathers ; we have heard 
His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth 
Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand, 
The kingdom shall to Israel be restored: 
Thus we -£Joiced, but soon our joy is turned 
Into perplexity and new amaze : 
For whither is he gone? what accident 
Hath rapt him from us ? will he now retire 
After appearance, and again prolong 
Our expectation ? God of Israel, 

1 See 2 Kings ii. 17. 2 Deut. xxxiv. 8. 

8 Milton, probably, takes this for tbe Salern, of which Melcbizedell 
wasting. See, however, Kitto's Cyclop, v. ii. p. 323. 
4 A castle in tbe mountain district of Peraea. 
So, Spenser's Calendar : — 

"A shepherd's boy, no better do him criL" 



4* 



b. ii. 43-86. PARADISE REGAINED. 317 

Send thy Messiah forth, the time is come ; 

Behold the kings of the earth how they oppress 

Thy chosen, to what height their power unjust 

They have exalted, and behind them cast 

All fear of thee ; arise and vindicate 

Thy glory, free thy people from their yoke. 

But let us wait ; thus far he hath performed, 

Sect his Anointed, and to us revealed him, 

By his great prophet, pointed at and shown 

In public, and with him we have conversed ; 

Let us be glad of this, and all our fears 

Lay on his providence ; he will not fail, 

Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall, 

Mock uq with his blest sight, then snatch him henc* 

Soon we shall see our hope, our joy return." 

Thus they out of their plaints new hope resume 
To find whom at the first they found unsought : 
But to his mother, Mary, when she saw 
Others returned from baptism, not her son, 
Nor left at Jordan, tidings of him none, 
Within her breast though calm, her breast though puro, 
Motherly cares and fears got head, and raised 
Some troubled thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad : 

" Oh what avails me now that honour high 
To have conceived of God, or that salute, 
' Hail, highly favoured, among women blest \ ' 
While I to sorrows am no less advanced, 
And fears as eminent, above the lot 
Of other women, by the birth I bore, 
In such a season born when scarce a shed 
Could be obtained to shelter him or me 
From the bleak air ; a stable was our warmth, 
A manger his ; yet soon enforced to fly 
Thence into Egypt, till the murderous king 
Were dead, who sought his life, and missing filled 
With infant blood the streets of Bethlehem; 
From Egypt home returned, in Nazareth 
Hath been our dwelling many years ; his life 
Private, unactive, calm, contemplative, 
Little suspicious to any king ; but now 
Full grown to man, acknowledged, as I hear, 
By John the Baptist, and in public shown, 
Son owned from Heaven by nis Father's voice ; 
I looked for some great change ; to honour ? no- 



4 



■ b 



*t 



•-e* 



5 iS MIL 1 'ON -S POL Ti CAL WORKS. b. ii. 87-126. 



But trouble, as old Simeon plain foretold, 

That to the fall and rising he should be 

Of many in Israel, and to a sign 

Spoken against, that through my very soul 

A sword shall pierce : this is my favoured lot, 

My exaltation to afflictions high. 

Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blest ; 

;I will not argue that, nor will repine. 

But where delays he now? some great intent 

Conceals him : when twelve years he scarce had see&< 

I lost him, but so found, as well I saw 

He could not loss himself; but went about 

His Father's business; what he meant 1 mused, 

Since understand ; much more his absence now 

Thus long to some great purpose he obscures. 

But I to wait with patience am inured: 

My heart hath been a storehouse long of things 

And sayings laid up, portending strange events. 

Thus Mary pondering oft, and oft to mind 
Becalling what remarkably had passed 
Since first her salutation heard, with thoughts 
Meekly composed awaited the fulfilling : 
The while her son tracing the desert wild 
Sole but with holiest meditations fed, 
Into himself descended, and at once 
All his great work to come before him set ; 
How to begin, how to accomplish best 
His end of being on earth, and mission high : 
For Satan, with sly preface to return, 
Had left him vacant, and with speed was gone 
Up to the middle region of thick air, 
Where all his potentates in council sat ; 
There without sign of boast, or sign of joy, 
Solicitous and blank he thus began : 

" Princes, Heaven's ancient sons, ethereal thrones, 
Demonian spirits now, from the element 
Each of his reign allotted, rightlier called 
Powers of fire, air, water, and earth beneath, 1 
So may we hold our place, and these mild seats 
Without new trouble ; such an enemy 

1 The ancients believed that there were demons, visible and in- 
risible, in all parts of the four elements. See, Aleinous, Doctr. Plat 
§ 5. Mich. Psellus, Dial, de Daera. p 41, 45, &c. Apul. de D«> 
Soor,' 



♦o 



< 



• ; :%v 



i. ii. 127-168. PARADISE REGAINED. 319 

Is risen to invade us, who no less 
Threatens than our expulsion down to Hell; 
T, as I undertook, and with the vote 
Consenting in full frequence 1 was empowered, 
Have found him, viewed him, tasted him, but find 
Far other labour to he undergone 
Than when I dealt with Adam first of men, 
though Adam by his wife's allurement fell, 
However to this man inferior far, 
If lie he man 2 by mother's side at least, 
With more than human gifts from Heaven adorned,* 
Perfections absolute, graces divine, 
And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds 
Therefore I am returned, lest confidence 
Of my success with Eve in Paradise 
Deceive ye to persuasion over-sure 
Of like succeeding here : I summon all 
Bather to be in readiness, with hand 
Or counsel to assist ; lest I who erst 
Thought none my equal, now be over-matched." 

So spake the old serpent doubting, and from all 
With clamour was assured their utmost aid 
At his command ; when from amidst them rose 
Belial, the dissolutest spirit that fell, 
The sensualest, and, after Asmodai, 
The fleshliest incubus, and thus advised : 

" Set women in his eye, and in his walk, 
Among daughters of men the fairest found ; 
Many are in each region passing fair 
As the noon sky ; more like to goddesses 
Than mortal creatures, graceful and discreet, 
Expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues 
Persuasive, virgin majesty with mild 
And sweet allayed, yet terrible to approach, 
Skilled to retire, and in retiring draw 
Hearts after them tangled in amorous nets. 
Such object hath the power to soften and tame 
Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow, 
Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, 
Draw out with credulous desire, and lead 
At will the manliest, resolutest breast, 
As the magnetic hardest iron draws. 

A-W.embly. 2 Some would place a comma nfter nr*. 

s »'. e. He is adorned. 



*^* 



**• 



320 MILTOA'S POETICAL WORKS, b. 11. 169-206. 

Women, when nothing else, beguiled the heart 
Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, 
And made him bow to the gods of his wives." 

To whom quick answer Satan thus returned : 
" Belial, in much uneA r en scale v Vm weigh' st 
AH others by thyself ; because 0/ old 
Thou thyself doat'dst on womankind, admiring 
Their shape, their colour, and attractive grace : 
None are, thou think' st, out taken 1 with such toya 
Before the flood, thou, with thy lusty crew, 
False titled sons of God, roaming the earth, 
Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, 
And coupled with them, and begot a race. 
Have we not seen, or by relation heard, 
In courts and regal chambers how thou lurk'st, 
In wood or grove by mossy fountain side, 
In valley or green meadow, to waylay 
Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene, 
Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa, 
Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more 
Too long, then lay'st thy 'scapes on names adored , 
Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, 
Satyr, or Faun, or Sylvan? But these haunts 
Delight not all ; among the sons of men, 
How many have with a smile made small account 
Of beauty and her lines, easily scorned 
All her assaults, on worthier things intent ? 
Remember that Pellean 2 conqueror, 
A youth, how all the beauties of the east 
He slightly viewed, and slightly overpassed ; 
How he surnamed of Africa 3 dismissed 
In his prime youth the fair Iberian maid. 
For Solomon, he lived at ease, and full 
Of honour, wealth, high fare, aimed not beyond 
Higher design than to enjoy his state ; 
Thence to the bait of women lay exposed : 
But he whom we attempt is wiser far 
Than Solomon, of more exalted mind, 

1 i. «., Thou thinkest there are none who are not taken, i. c. wha 
/ire able to resist. 

2 Alexander the Great, bom at Pella, in Macedonia. His conti- 
nence towards the queen and daughters of Darius, when they weru 
""Jien prisoners after the battle of Assus, is set forth by Q. Curt. iiLtf. 

3 Scipio Africanus, Liy. xxvi. 50. V»l"?' Max. iv. S. 



"V 



■*. 



b. ii. 207-238. PARADISE REGAINED. 321 

Made and set wholly on the accomplishment 
Of greatest things : what woman will you find 
Though of this age the wonder and the fame. 
On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye 
Of fond desire ? or should she confident, 
As sitting queen adored on beauty's throne, 
Descend with all her winning charins begirt 
To enamour, as the zone of Venus once 
Wrought that effect on Jove, 1 so fables tell , 
How would one look from his majestic brow 
Seated as on the top of virtue's hill, 
Discountenance her despised, and put to rout 
All her array; her female pride deject, 
Or turn to reverent awe ? for beauty stands 
In the admiration only of weak minds 
Led captive ; cease to admire, and all her plumea 
Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy, 
At every sudden slighting quite abashed ; 
Therefoie, with manlier objects we must try 
His constancy, with such as have more show 
Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise ; 
Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wrecked ; 
Or that which only seems to satisfy 
Lawful desires of nature, not beyond; 
And now I know he hungers where no food 
Is to be found, in the wide wilderness ; 
The rest commit to me ; I shall let pass 
No advantage, and his strength as oft assay." 

He ceased; and heard their grant in loud acclaim; 
Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band 
Of spirits likest to himself in guile 
To be at hand, and at his beck appear, 

1 Alluding to Homer, II. xiv., where Juno borrows the girdh 
j( Venus: — 

''She said, with awe divine the queen of lovo 
Obeyed the sister and the wife of Jove : 
And fiom her fragrant breast the zone unbraced, 
With various skill and high embroidery graced. 
In this was every art, and every charm 
To win the wisest, and the coldest warm ; 
Fond love, the gentle vow, the gay desire, 
The kind deceit, the still reviving fire ; 
Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs, 
Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes." — £ J ^ji, 






4 



C22 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 6.11.239-280. 



If cause were to unfold some active scene 
Of varioiis persons, each to know his part ; 
Then to the desert takes with these his flight; 
Where still from shade to shade the Son of God, 
After forty days' fasting had remained, 
Now hungering first, and to himself thus said : 

" Where will this end ? Four times ten days I've 1 a3- <-</ 
Wandering this woody maze, and human food 
Nor tasted, nor had appetite ; that fast 
To virtue I impute not, or count part 
Of what I suffer here : if nature need not, 
Or God support nature without repast, 
Though needing, what praise is it to endure ? 
But now I feel I hunger, which declares 
Nature hath need of what she asks ; yet God 
Can satisfy that need some other way, 
Though hunger still remain : so it remain 
Without this hody's wasting, I content me, 
And from the sting of famine fear no harm : 
Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts that feed 
Me hungering more to do my Father's will." 

It was the hour of night, when thus the Son 
Communed in silent walk, then laid him down 
Under the hospitable covert nigh 
Of trees thick interwoven ; there he slept, 
And dreamed as appetite is wont to dreara, 
Of meats and drinks, nature's refreshment sweet : 
Him thought, he by the brook of Cherith stood, 
And saw the ravens with their horny beaks 
Food to Elijah bringing even and morn, 
Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they 
He saw the prophet also how he fled [brought 

Into the desert, and how there he slept 
Under a juniper ; then how, awaked, 
He found his supper on the coals prepared, 
A.nd by the angel was bid rise and eat, 
And eat the second time after repose, 
The strength whereof sufficed him forty days ; 
Sometimes that with Elijah he partook, 
Or as 1 a guest with Daniel at his pulse. 
Tims wore out night ; and now the herald larlr 
Left his ground-nest, high towering to descry 

1 Synipson would rer4 " wu t\ guest/' 






>ifn< 



f 



•$• 



b. ii. 281-313. PARADISE REGAINED. *«3 

The mom's approach, and greet her with his sonjj : l 

As lightly from his grassy couch up rose 

Our Saviour, and found all was hut a dream ; 

Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting waked. 

Up to a hill anon his steps he reared, 

From whose high top to ken the prospect round. 

If cottage were in view, sheep-cote, or herd ; 

But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote none he saw, 

Only in a hottorn saw a pleasant grove, 

With chaunt of tuneful birds resounding loud ; 

Thither he hent his way, determined there 

To rest at noon, and entered soon the shade 

High roofed, and walks beneath, and alleys brown,** 

That opened in the midst a woody scene ; 

Nature's own work it seemed (nature taught art), 

And to a superstitious eye the haunt 

Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs; he viewed it rounds 

When suddenly a man before him stood, 

Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad, 

As one in city, or court, or palace bred, 

And with fair speech these words to him addressed : 

" With granted leave officious I return, 
But much more wonder that the Son of God 
In this wild solitude so long should bide 
Of all tilings destitute, and well I know, 
Not without hunger. Others of some note, 
As story tells, have trod this wilderness : 
The fugitive bond-woman with her son, 
Outcast Nebaioth, 3 yet found hero relief 
By a providing angel ; all the race 
Of Israel here had famished, had not God 
Rained from Heaven manna . and that prophet bold, 
Native of Thebez, 4 wandering he v e was fed 

> Chaucer, Knight's Tale, 1493— 

" The hesy larke, the messager of day, 
Saleweth in hire song the morwe gray ; 
And firy Phebus riseth up so bright, 
That all the Orient laugeth of the sight." 

2 An Italian expression, cf. Par. Lost, is. 108S. 

8 A strange substitution of the son's name for that of the father \ 
lor, from Gen. xxv. 13, it appears that Nebaioth was the son of Ishinael. 

4 *'. e. Tishbe, or Thisbe, the birthplace of Elijah. I shall not entef 
into details, but v.ill merely observe that Milton is mistaken (poihapt) 

Y 



£ 



324 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. n. 314-34? 

Twi<5e by a voice intiting him to eat : 

Of thee these forty days none hath regard, 

Forty and more deserted here indeed." 

To whom thus Jesus : " What cOnclud'st thou heraa? 
They all had need; I, as thou seest, have none." 

" How hast thou hunger then?" Satan replied. 
"Tell me, if food were now before thee set, 
Wouldst thou not eat ?" '' Thereafter as I like 
The giver," answered Jesus. " Why should that 
Cause thy refusal ? " said the subtle fiend. 
*' Hast thou not right to all created things? 
Owe not all creatures by just right to thee 
Duty and service, not to stay till bid, 
But tender all their power? Nor mention 1 
Meats by the law unclean, or offered first 
To idols, those young Daniel could refuse ; 
Nor proffered by an enemy, though who 
Would scruple that, with want oppressed ? Behold, 
Nature ashamed, or better to express, 
Troubled that thou shouldst hunger, hath purveyed 
From all the elements her choicest store 
To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord 
With honour ; only deign to sit and eat." 

He spake no dream, for as his words had end, 
Our Saviour lifting up his eyes, beheld 
In ample space, under the broadest shade, 
A table richly spread, 1 in regal mode, 
With dishes piled, and meats of noblest sort 
And savour, beasts of chase, or fowl of game, 
In pastry built, or from the spit, or boiled, 
Gris-amber-steamed ; 2 all fish from sea or shore, 
Freshet, or purling brook, of shell or fin, 
And exquisitest name, 3 for which was drained 
Pontus, and Lucrine Bay, and Afric coast. 

intentionally) in making the desert in which Hagar wandered, wher& 
the Israelites were fed with manna, and where Elijah retreated, the 
scene of the temptation ; such a latitude is, however, quite par- 
donable. 

1 The following episode in the temptation is due to Milton's imagi- 
nation. As usual, it labours under his common error of too redundant 
learning and detail. 

2 A condiment much more common in Queen Elizabeth's time than 
our own. 

3 The Romans gave the most extravagant names to fish of exquisitt 
Isste, such as cereln'-m Jovii, clyvenus Minerva k etc. 



■*fy* 



-nr 



B. II. 348-386. 



PARADISE REGAINED. 



32S 



I 



Alas ! how simple, to these cates compared, 

"Was that crude apple that diverted Eve, 

And at a stately sideboard by the wine 

That fragrant smell diffused, in order stood 

Tall stripling youths 1 rich clad, of fairer hue 

Than Ganymed or Hylas ; distant more 

Under the trees now tripped, now solemn stood, 

Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades 

With fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn, 

And ladies of the Hesperides, that seemed 

Fairer than feigned of old, or fabled since 

Of fairy damsels met in forest wide 

By knights of Logres, or of Lyones, 

Lancelot, or Pelleas, or Pellenore : 2 

And all the while harmonious airs were heard 

Of chiming strings, or charming pipes, and winds 

Of gentlest gale, Arabian odours fanned 

From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells 

Such was the splendour ; and the tempter now 

His invitation earnestly renewed : 

" What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat? 
These are not fruits forbidden ; no interdict 
Defends 3 the touching of these viands pure ; 
Their taste no knowledge works, at least of evil, 
But life preserves, destroys life's enemy, 
Hunger, with sweet restorative delight. 
All these are spirits of air, and woods, and springs, 
Thy gentle ministers, who come to pay 
Thee homage, and acknowledge thee their Lord: 
What doubt'st thou, Son of God ? Sit down and ea* " 

To whom thus Jesus temperately replied : 
" Said'st thou not that to all tilings I had a right ? 
And who withholds my power that right to use ? 
Shall I receive by gift what of my own, 
When and where likes me best, I can command ? 
I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou, 
Command a table in this wilderness, 
And call swift nights of angels ininistrant 
Arrayed in glory on my cup to attend : 

1 Milton keeps to the eastern character in describing ths aicontn 
ments of this banquet. 

2 Here Milton's learning is terribly in advance of his judgment 
His taste for exhausting his whole reading, whether apposite or not, 
does serioxw mischief. 3 Forbids. 



$* 



4- 



326 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. ii. 387-423. 

Why shouldst thou then obtrude this diligence 
In vain, where no acceptance it can find ? 
And with my hunger what hast thou to do ? 
Thy pompous delicacies I contemn, 
/Arid count thy specious gifts no gifts, but guiles." 

To whom thus answered Satan malcontent : 
" That I have also power to give thou seest; 
If of that power I bring thee voluntary 
What I might have bestowed on whom I pleased, 
And rather opportunely in this place 
Chose to impart to thy apparent need ; 
Why shouldst thou not accept it? But I see 
What I can do or offer is suspect ; 
Of these things others quickly will dispose, 
Whose pains have earned the far fet 1 spoil." With that 
Both table and provision vanished quite 
With sound of harpies' wings, 2 and talons heard; 
Only the importune tempter still remained, 
And with these words his temptation pursued : 

" By hunger, that each other creature tames, 
Thou art not to be harmed, therefore not moved, 
Thy temperance invincible besides, 
For no allurement yields to appetite, 
And all thy heart is set on high designs, 
High actions; but wherewith to be achieved? 
Great acts require great means of enterprise, 
Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth, 
A carpenter thy father known, thyself 
Bred up in poverty and straits at home, 
Lost in a desert here, and hunger-bit : 
Which way or from what hope dost thou aspire 
To greatness ? whence authority deriv'st ? 
What followers, what retinue canst thou gain, 
Or at thy heels the dizzy multitude, 
Longer than thou canst feed them on thy cost ? 
Money 3 brings honour, friends, conquest, and realms: 
What raised Antipater the Edoraite,* 

: Fetched. 

2 We have a like scene in Shakspeare, in the Tempest, act iii., 
where " several strange shapes bring in a banquet," and afterwards 
u outers Uriel like a harpy, claps his wings upon the table, and with £, 
quaint device the banquet vanishes." — Newton. 

3 Compare the similar pretences by which Mammon endeavours *SJ 
\Ujv aside the virtue of Sir Guyon. Faerie Queen, ii. 7, U. 

* n K. Joseph. An'aq,. xiv. L & 1L 

^^4 _ >( ^+ 



b. ii. 424-458. PARADISE REGAINED. 327 



And his son Herod placed on Judah's throne 
(Thy throne), but gold that got him puissant friends? 
Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive, 
Set riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap. 
Not difficult, if thou hearken to me : 
Eiches are mine ; fortune is in my hand ; 
They whom I favour thrive in wealth amain. 
While virtue, valour, wisdom, sit in want." 

To whom thus Jesus patiently replied : 
" Yet wealth without these three is impotent 
To gain dominion, or to keep it gained. 
Witness those ancient empires of the earth, 
In height of all their flowing wealth dissolved 
But men endued with these have oft attained 
In lowest poverty to highest deeds : 
Gideon 1 and Jephtha, 2 and the shepherd lad,* 
Whose offspring on the throne of Judah sat 
So many ages, and shall yet regain 
That seat, and reign in Israel without end. 
Among the heathen (for throughout the world 
To me is not unknown what hath been done 
Worthy of memorial), canst thou not remember 
Quintius, 4 Fabricius, 5 Curius, 7 Rrpulus ? 
For I esteem those names of m.6-\ so poor 
Who could do mighty things, and could contemn 
Riches though offered from the hand of kings 
And what in me seems wanting, but that I 
May also in this poverty as soon 
Accomplish what they did, perhaps, and more 9 
Extol not riches, then, the toil of fools, 
The wise man's cumbrance if not snare, more apt 
To slacken virtue, and abate her edge, 
Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise 
What if with like aversion I reject 
Riches and realms; yet not for that a crown, 

1 Judg. vi. 15. 2 ib. xi. 1. s Ps. Lxxviii. 70, a."}. 

4 i. e. Quintius CLncinnatus. 

5 Fabricius, who withstood the large offers of King Pyrrhus to aid 
him in negotiating peace with the Romans, died so poor, that he was 
buried at the public expense. 

6 Curius Dentatus refused the lands assigned him as the reward of 
his victories ; and when the ambassadors of the Samnites offered him 
h large sum of money, as he sat roasting turnips at the fire, he re- 
'-used it, declaring that he desired not to be rich, but to command 
v .hose that ^ere no. 



•$- 



*A 



-^ 



328 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. u. 459-ni. 8. 



Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns, 

Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights 

To him who wears the regal diadem, 

When on his shoulders each man's burden lies; 

For therein stands the office of a king, 

His honour, virtue, merit, and chief praise, 

That for the public all this weight he bears, 

Yet he who reigns within himself, and rules 

Passions, desires, and fears, is more a king; 

Which every wise and virtuous man attains 1 

And who attains not, ill aspires to rule 

Cities of men, or headstrong multitudes, 

Subject himself to anarchy within, 

Or lawless passions in him which he serves 

But to guide nations in the way of truth 

By saving doctrine, and from error lead 

To know, and knowing worship God aright, 

Is yet more kingly ; this attracts the soul, 

Governs the inner man, the nobler part ; 

That other o'er the body only reigns, 

And oft by force, which to a generous mmd 

So reigning can be no sincere delight. 

Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought 

Greater and nobler done, and to lay down 

Far more magnanimous than to assume. 

Kiches are needless, then, both for themselves, 

And for thy reason why they should be sought, 

To gam a sceptre, oftest better missed." 



*iy 



book m. 

So spake the Son of God, and Satan stood 
A while as mute, confounded what to say, 
What to reply, confuted and convinced 
Of his weak arguing, and fallacious drift ; 
At length, collecting all his serpent wiles, 
With soothing words renewed, him thus accost? 
" I see thou know'st what is of use to know, 
What best to say canst say, to do caril do ■ 



+©♦ 



♦&- 



b.hi. 9-46. PARADISE REGAINED. 329 

Tby actions to thy -words accord, thy words 

To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heari 

Contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape. 

Should kings and nations from thy mouth consult; 

Thy council would be as the oracle 

Urim and Thummim, those oraculous gems 

On Aaron's breast ; or tongue of seers old 

Infallible : or wert thou sought to deeds 

That might require the array of war, thy skill 

Of conduct would be such, that all the world 

Could not sustain thy prowess, or subsist 

In battle, though against thy few in arms. 

These godlike virtues wherefore dost thou hide, 

Affecting private life, or more obscure 

In savage wilderness ? Wherefore deprive 

All earth her wonder at thy acts, thyself 

The fame and glory, glory the 1 sward 

That sole excites to high attempts, the flame 

Of most erected spirits, most tempered pure 

Ethereal, who all pleasures else despise, 

All treasures and all gain esteem as dross, 

And dignities and powers all but tire highest ? 

Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe ; the son 

Of Macedonian Philip had ere these 

Won Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held 

At his dispose ; young Scipio l had brought down 

The Carthaginian pride; young Pompey 2 quelled 

The Pontic king, and in triumph had rode. 

Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature, 

Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment. 

Great Julius, whom now all the world admires, 

The more he grew in years, the more inflamed 

With glory, wept that he had lived so long 

Inglorious : 3 but thou yet art not too late." 

To whom our Saviour' calmly thus replied : 
" Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth 
For empire's sake, nor empire to affect 
For glory's sake, by all thy argument. 

1 Scipio was only twenty-four years old when ho was sent as Pro- 
consul into Spain, and only between twenty-eight and twenty-nun* 
when he was chosen Consul before the usual age, and transfcrre 1 tht 
war to Africa. 

2 But Pompey was above forty, when he was sent against MithriJaten 

3 See Suetnn. Jul. Cnes ft 7 



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33° MIL TON'S FOE TICAL WORKS. b. hi. 47-90. 

For what is glory but the blaze of fame, 

The people's praise, if always praise unmixed? 

And what the people but a herd confused, 

A miscellaneous rabble, who extol 

Things vulgar and, well weighed, scarce worth the praise ? 

They praise, and they admire they know not what, 

And know not whom, but as one leads the other ; 

And what delight to be by sucli extolled, 

To live upon their tongues and be their talk, 

Of whom to be dispraised were no small praisa, 

His lot who dares be singularly good ? 

The intelligent among them and the wise 

Are few, and glory scarce of few is raised. 

This is true glory and renown, when God, 

Looking on the earth, with approbation marks 

The just man, and divulges Mm through Heaven 

To all his angels, who with time applause 

Recount his praises : thus he did to Job, 

When, to extend his fame through Heaven and earth. 

As thou to thy reproach mayst well remember, 

He asked thee, ' Hast thou seen my servant Job ? ' 

Famous he was in Heaven, on earth less known ; 

Where glory is false glory, attributed 

To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame 

They err who count it glorious to subdue 

By conquest far and wide, to over-run 

Large countries, and in fields great battles win, 

Great cities by assault : what do these worthies, 

But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave 

Peaceable nations, neighbouring, or remote, 

Made captive, yet deserving freedom more 

Than those their conquerors, who leave behind 

Nothing but ruin wheresoe'er they rove, 

And all the flourishing works of peace destroy, 

Then swell with pride, and must be titled gods, 

©reat benefactors of mankind, deliverers, 

Worshipped with temple, priest, and sacrifice ; 

One is the son of Jove, of Mars the other ; 

Till conqueror Death discover them scarce men. 

Rolling in brutish vices, and deformed, 

Violent or shameful death their due reward. 

But if there be in glory aught of good, 

It may by means far different be attained 

Without ambition, war, or violence ; 



o 



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^, 



in. 91-133. PARADISE REGAINED. 33* 

By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent, 
By patience, temperance : I mention still 
Him whom thy wrongs with saintly patience borne 
Made famous in a land and times obscure. 
Who names not now with honour patient Job ? 
Poor Socrates (who next more memorable ?) 
By what he taught and suffered for so doing, 
For truth's sake suffering death unjust, lives nor 4 ' 
Equal in fame to proudest conquerors. 
Yet if for fame and glory aught be done, 
Aught suffered; if young African 1 for fame 
His wasted country freed from Punic rage, 
The deed becomes unpraised, the man at least, 
And loses, though but verbal, his reward. 
Shall I seek glory, then, as vain men seek, 
Oft not deserved ? I seek not mine, but his 
Who sent me, and thereby witness whence I am." 

To whom the tempter murmuring thus replied : 
" Think not so slight of glory; therein least 
Resembling thy great Father : he seeks glory, 
And for his glory all things made, all things 
Orders and governs ; nor content in Heaven 
By all his angels glorified, requires 
Glory from men, from all men, good or bad, 
Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption . 
Above all sacrifice or hallowed gift 
Glory he requires, and glory he receives 
Promiscuous from all nations, Jew, or Greek, 
Or barbarous, nor exception hath declared; 
From us, his foes pronounced, glory he exacts." 

To whom our Saviour fervently replied : 
" And reason ; since his word all things produced. 
Though oliiefly not for glory as prime end, 
But to show forth his goodness, and impart 
His good communicable to every soul 
Freely; of whom what could he less expect 
Than glory and benediction, that is, thanks, 
The slightest, easiest, readiest recompense 
From them who could return him nothing else, 
And, not returning that, would likeliest render 
Contempt instead, dishonour, obloquy ? 
Hard recompense, unsuitable return 
For so much good, so much beneficence 
1 i. e. Scipio Africanus. 



ih 



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t 



332 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. *. hi. 134-176. 



I But why should man seek glory, who of his ( vi) 

Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs 
But condemnation, ignominy, and shame ? 
Who for so many benefits received 
Turned recreant to God, ingrate and false, 
And so of all true good himself despoiled ; 
Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take 
That which to God alone of right belongs ; 
Yet so much bounty is in God, such grace, 
That who advance his glory, not their own, 
Them he himself to glory will advance." 

So spake the son of God : and here again 
Satan had not to answei but stood struck 
With guilt of his own sin, for he himself 
Insatiable of glory had lost all; 
Yet of another plea bethought him soon : 

" Of glory, as thou wilt," said he, " so deem, 
Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass ■ 
But to a kingdom thou art born, ordained 
To sit upon thy father David's throne ; 
By mother's side thy father ; though thy right 
Be now in powerful hands, that will not part 
Easily from possession won with arms : 
Judea now, and all the promised land, 
Reduced a province under Roman yoke, 
Obeys Tiberius ; nor is always ruled 
With temperate sway; oft have they violated 
The temple, oft the law with foul affronts, 
Abominations rather, as did once 
Antiochus : and think'st thou to regain 
Thy right by sitting still or thus retiring ? 
So did not Maccabeus : he indeed 
Retired unto the desert, but with arms ; 
And o'er a mighty king so oft prevailed, 
That, by strong hand, his family obtained, 
Though priests, the crown, and David's throne usurped, 
With Modin 1 and her suburbs once content. 
If kingdom move thee not, let move thee zeal 
&nd duty ; zeal and duty are not slow ; 
But on occasion's forelock watchful wait. 
They themselves ratker are occasion best, 
Zeal of thy Father's house, duty to free 
Thy country from her heathen servitude ; 
1 The original country of the Maccrcbcefk 

<w- -($>* 



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b. in. 177-216. PARADISE REGAINED. 333 

So sbalt tliou best fulfil, best verify 

The prophets old, who sung thy endless reign 3 

The happier reign the sooner it begins : 

Reign then; what canst thou better do the while?" 

To whom our Saviour answer thus returned : 
" All things are best fulfilled in their due time, 
And time there is for all things, Truth hath said ■ 
If of my reign prophetic writ hath told, 
That it shall never end, so when begin 
The Father in his purpose hath decreed, 
He in whose hand all times and seasons roll 
What if he hath decreed that I shall first 
Be tried in humble state, and things adverse, 
By tribulations, injuries, insults, 
Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence, 
Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting, 
Without distrust or doubt, that he may know 
What I can suffer, how obey ? Who best 
Can suffer, best can do ; best reign, who first 
Well hath obeyed j 1 just trial ere I merit 
My exaltation without change or end. 
But what concerns it thee when I begin 
My everlasting kingdom? why art thou 
Solicitous? what moves thy inquisition? 
Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall, 
And my promotion will be thy destruction ? " 

To whom the tempter, inly racked, replied : 
" Let that come when it comet: ; all hope is lost 
Of my reception into grace ; what worse ? 
For where no hope is left, is left no fear : 
If there be worse, the expectation more 
Of worse torments me than the feeling can 
I would be at the worst ; worst is my port 
My harbour, and my ultimate repose, 
The end I would attain, my final good. 
My error was my error, and my crime 
My crime; whatever for itself condemned, 5 
Aud will alike be punished, whether thou 
Eeign or reign not ; though to that gentle brow 
Willingly I could fly, and hope thy reigu, 

1 Cicero de Legg. iii. : — 2. "Qui bene imperat, par-erit aliqaip.fl* 
noeesse est; et qui modeste paret, videtur, qui aliquando impprftt 
lignns cose." 

f/ *» •% Trhatf*7tfr it be. it i"> for itself condemned, »tv. 



♦&< — , ; ,a 



334 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 11.111.217-257. 

From that placid aspect and meek regard, 

Kather than aggravate my evil state, 

Would stand between me and thy Father's ire 

(Whose ire I dread more than the fire of Hell), 

A shelter and a kind of shading cool 

Interposition, as a summer's cloud. 

If I then to the worst that can be haste, 

Why move thy feet so slow to what is best, 

Happiest both to thyself and all the world, 

That thou who worthiest art shouldst be their king? 

Perhaps thou linger' st in deep thoughts detained 

Of the enterprise so hazardous and high ; 

No wonder, for though in thee be united 

What of perfection can in man be found, 

Or human nature can receive, consider 

Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent 

At home, scarce viewed the Galilean towns, 

And once a year Jerusalem, few days' 

Short sojourn; and what thence couldst thou observe? 

The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory, 

Empires, and monarchs, and their radiant courts, 

Best school of best experience, quickest insight 

In all things that to greatest actions lead. 

The wisest, unexperienced, will be ever 

Timorous and loth, with novice modesty 

(As he who, seeking asses, found a kingdom), 

Irresolute, unhardy, unadventurous : 

But I will bring thee where thou soon shalt quit 

Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes 

The monarchies of the earth, their pomp and state, 

Sufficient introduction to inform 

Thee, of thyself so apt, in regal arts, 

And regal mysteries, that thou mayst know 

How best their opposition to withstand." 

With that (such power was given him then) he tooh 
The Son of God up to a mountain high. 
It was a mountain 1 at whose verdant feet 
A spacious plain, out-stretched in circuit wide, 
Lay pleasant ; from his side two rivers flowed, 
The one winding, the other straight, and left between 
Fair champain, with less rivers interveined, 



1 The Scriptures are silent as to the name of the mountain ; but 
Milton, probably, had Taurus in view; the two livers being the 
Euphrates and Tigris. — See Newton 



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7 



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b. in. 253-292. PARADISE REGAINED. 335 

Then meeting, joined their tribute to the sea : 

Fertile of corn the glebe, of oil, and wine ; 

With herds the pastures thronged, with flocks the hilly , 

Huge cities and high-towered, that well might seem 

The seats of mightiest monarchs, and so large 

The prospect was, that here and there was room 

For Darren desert fountainless and dry. 

To this high mountain-top the tempter brought 

Our Saviour, and new train of words began: 

" Well have we speeded, and o'er hill and dale, 
Forest, and field, and flood, temples and towers, 
£ut shorter many a league ; here thou behold'st 
Assyria and her empire's ancient bounds, 
Araxes and the Caspian lake, thence on 
As far as Indus east, Euphrates west, 
And oft beyond ; to south the Persian bay, 
And inaccessible the Arabian drouth : 
Here Nineveh, of length within her wall 
Several days' journey, built by Ninus old, 
Of that first golden monarchy the seat, 
And seat of Salmanassar, whose success 
Israel in long captivity still mourns; 
There Babylon, the wonder of all tongues, 
As ancient, but rebuilt by liim 1 who twice 
Judah and all thy father David's house 
Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste, 
Till Cyrus set them free ; Persepolis 
His city there thou seest, and Bactra there; 
Ecbatana her structure vast there shows, 
And Hecatompylos 2 her hundred gates ; 
There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream, 
The drink of none but kings : 3 of later fame 
Built by Emathian 4 or by Parthian hands, 
The great Seleucia, Nisibis, 5 and there 
Artaxata, Teredon, 8 Ctesiphon, 

1 Nebuchadnezzar, who led the Jews captive twice, first in tr«& 
rtiign of Jehoiachin, and afterwards in that of Zedeldah. 

2 A name applied to the capital of Parthia, from the number of hfcf 
gates. 

3 See the curious dissertation of Jortin, in Newton's edition, and 
the Universal History, v. 5, p. 124, ed. 870. 

4 i. e. Macedonian, viz., by the successors of Alexander the Great. 

5 Called also Antiochus. 

6 A city near the Persian Bay. below the confluence of the Kn« 
VhrRVjs and the Tigris. 



<> 



33 6 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, *. m. 293-33*. 

Turning with easy eye thou mayst behold 

All these the Parthian, now some ages past, 

By great Arsaces 1 led, who founded first 

That empire, under his dominion holds, 

From the luxurious kings of Antioch won. 

And just in time thou com'st to have a view 

Of his great power ; for now the Parthian king 

In Ctesiphon hath gathered all his host 

Against the Scythian, whose incursions wild 

Have wasted Sogdiana ; to her aid 

He marches now in haste : see, though from far, 

His thousands, in what martial equipage 

They issue forth, steel bows, and shafts their arms 

Of equal dread in flight, or in pursuit ; 

All horsemen, in which fight they most excel ; 

See how in warlike muster they appear, 

In rhombs and wedges, and half-moons, and wings." 

He looked, and saw what numbers numberless 
The city gates out-poured, light armed troops 
In coats of mail and military pride ; 
In mail their horses clad, yet fleet and strong, 
Prancing their riders bore, the flower and choico 
Of many provinces from bound to bound ; 
From Ajrachosia, 2 from Candaor east, 
And Margiana to the Hyrcanian cliffs 
Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales, 
From Atropatia 3 and the neighbouring plains 
Of Adiabene, Media, and the south 
Of Susiana, to Balsara's haven. 4 
He saw them in their forms of battle ranged. 
How quick they wheeled, and flying behind them shot 
Sharp sleet of arrowy showers against the face 
Of their pursuers, and overcame by flight ; 
The field all iron cast a gleaming brown : 
Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn 
Cuirassiers all in steel for standing fight, 
Chariots or elephants indorsed with towers* 
Of archers, nor of labouring pioneers 

1 His revolt is placed by Prideaux 250 b. c. It may be observe 1, 
that there is a serious anachronism in our Saviour being here made to 
behold cities, long since ruined, in a nourishing condition. 

2 Near the Indus. 3 West of Media. 4 The same as Teredon. 
5 i. 3. with towers upon their backs. Milton here uses indorsed 3<v 

cording to its strict derivative meaning, from in anr* Icwun. 



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— ^ 



HI. 331— 3 66 . 



PARADISE REGAINED. 



337 



a multitude with spades and axes arnied, 
To lay hills plain, fell woods, or valleys fill, 
Or where plain was raise hill, or overlay 
With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke ; 
Mules after these, camels and dromedaries, 
And waggons fraught with utensils of war. 
Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp, 
When Agrican, 1 with all his northern powers, 
Besieged Albracca, as romances tell, 
The city of Gallaphrone, from thence to win 
The fairest of her sex, Angelica 
His daughter, sought by many prowest knights, 
Both Paynim, and the peers of Charlemain. 
Such and so numerous was their chivalry : 
At sight whereof the fiend yet more presumed, 
And to our Saviour thus his words renewed : 

" That thou mayst know I seek not to engage 
Thy virtue, and not every way secure 
On no slight grounds thy safety ; hear, and mark 
To what end I have brought thee hither, and shown 
All this fair sight : thy kingdom, though foretold 
By prophet or by angel, unless thou 
Endeavour, as thy father David did, 
Thou never shalt obtain : prediction still 
In all things, and all men, supposes means ; 
Without means used, what it predicts revokes. 
But say thou wert possessed of David's throne 
By free consent of all, none opposite, 
Samaritan or Jew ; how couldst thou hope 
Long to enjoy it quiet and secure, 
Between too such enclosing enemies, 
Boman and Parthian ? Therefore one of these 
Thou must make sure thy own : the Parthian first, 
By my advice, as nearer, and of late 
found able by invasion to annoy 
Thy country, and captive lead away her kings, 

1 See Boiardo's Orlando Inamorat. i. 10. " It must, 1 tnink," ob 
serves Thyer, " be acknowledged by the greatest admirers of Milton, 
tbat the impression which romances had made upon his imagination 
ill his youth, has in this place led him into a blameable excess. Not 
to mention the notorious fabulousness of the fact alluded to, -which I 
doubt some people wik ^ensure in a poem of so grave a turn, the 
number of the troops of Agrican, &c, is by far too much dispropor« 
Honed to any army which the Parthian king by any historieol ovi 
dence, could be supposed to bring into the fteld." 



4- 



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338 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 8.111.367-409. 

Antigonus and old Hyrcanus, bound, 

Maugre the Koman : it shall be my task 

To render thee the Parthian at dispose; 

Choose which thou wilt, by conquest or by league 

By hirn thon shalt regain, without him not, 

That which alone can truly reinstal thee 

In David's royal seat, his true successor, 

Deliverance of thy brethren, those ten tribes 

Whose offspring in his territory yet serve, 

In Habor, 1 and among the Medes dispersed ; 

Ten sons of Jacob, two of Joseph, lost 

Thus long from Israel, serving as of old 

Their fathers in the land of Egypt served, 

This offer sets before thee to deliver. 

These if from servitude thou shalt restore 

To their inheritance, then, nor till then, 

Thou on the throne of David in full glory, 

!From Egypt to Euphrates, and beyond, 
Shalt reign, and Eome or Csesar not need fear M 
To whom our Saviour answered thus unmoved • 
" Much ostentation vain of fleshly arm, 
And fragile arms, much instrument of war 
Long in preparing, soon to nothing brought, 
Before mine eyes thou hast set ; and in my ear 
Vented much policy, and projects deep 
Of enemies, of aids, battles, and leagues, 
Plausible to the world, to me worth nought 
Means I must use, thou say'st, prediction else 
Will unpredict and fail me of the throne : 
My time, I told thee (and that time for thee 
Were better farthest off), is not yet come; 
When that comep, think not thou to find me slack 
On my part aught endeavouring, or to need 
Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome 
Luggage of war there shown me, argument 
Of human weakness rather than of strength. 
My brethren, as thou call'st them, those ten tribes 
I must deliver, if I mean to reign* 
David's true heir, and his full sceptre sway 
To just extent over all Israel's sons 
But whence to thee this zeal ? Wheie was it then 
For Israel, or for David, or his throne, 
When thou stood'st up his tempter to the priito 
l % Kings xviii. 11. 



A*-s — . -.UX> 



AIT 



*$* 



til. 4io — iv. 



PARADISE REGAINED. 



339 



Of numbering Israel, which cost the lives 
Of threescore and ten thousand Israelites 
By three da} r s' pestilence ? such was thy zeal 
To Israel then, the same that now to me. 
As for those captive tribes, themselves were they 
Who wrought their own captivit} r ; fell off 
From God to worship calves, the deities 
Of Egypt; Baal next, and Ashtaroth, 
And all the idolatries of heathen round, 
Besides their other worse than heathenish crimes ; 
Nor in the land of their captivity 
Humbled themselves, or penitent besought 
The God of their forefathers ; but so died 
Impenitent, and left a race behind 
Like to themselves, distinguishable scarce 
From Gentiles, but by circumcision vain, 
And God with idols in their worship joined. 
Shouid I of these the liberty regard, 
Who, freed, as to their ancient patrimony, 
Unhumbled, unrepentant, unreformed, 
Headlong would follow; 1 and to their gods, perhaps 
Of Bethel and of Dan ? No, let them serve 
Their enemies, who serve idols with God. 
Yet he at length, time to himself best known, 
Remembering Abraham, by some wondrous call 
May bring them back repentant and sincere, 
And at their passing cleave the Assyrian flood, 
While to their native land with joy they haste, 
As the Bed Sea and Jordan once he cleft, 
When to the promised land their fathers passed : 
To his due time and providence I leave them." 
So spake Israel's true king, and to the fiend 
Made answer meet, that made void all his wiles 
So fares it when with truth falsehood contends. 



BOOK IV. 

Pekplexed and troubled at his bad success 
The tempter stood, nor had what to reply; 

1 There is great difficulty in this passage, unless the construction b* 
*' Headlong would follow as to their ancient patrimony, and to thoit 
•jods, perhaps." 



4* 



♦A* _^ 

340 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. b. iv. 3-43. 

jDiscovered in his fraud, thrown from his hope 

So oft, and the persuasive rhetoric 

That sleeked his tongue, and won so much oii Eve, 

So little here, nay lost ; but Eve was Eve, 

This far his over-match, who, self-deceived 

And rash, beforehand had no better weighed 

The strength he was to cope with, or his own; 

But as a man who had been matchless held 

In cunning, over-reached where least he thought; 

To salve his credit, and for very spite, 

Still will be tempting him who foils him still, 

And never cease, though to his shame the more ; 

Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time, 

About the wine-press where sweet must is poured, 

Beat off', returns as oft with humming sound; 

Or surging waves against a solid rock, 

Though all to shivers dashed, the assault renew, 

Vain battery, and in froth or bubbles end; 

So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse 

Met ever, and to shameful silence brought, 

Yet gives not o'er, though desperate of success, 

And his vain importunity pursues. 

He brought our Saviour to the western side 

Of that high mountain, whence he might behold 

Another plain, 1 long, but in breadth not wide, 

Washed by the southern sea, and on the north 

To equal length backed with a ridge of hills, 

That screened the fruits of the earth and seats of men 

From coid septentrion 2 blasts; thence in the midst 

Divided by a river, of whose banks 

On each side an imperial city stood, 

With towers and temples proudly elevate 

On seven small hills, with palaces adorned, 

Porches and theatres, baths, aqueducts, 

Statues and trophies, and triumphal arcs, 

Gardens and groves, presented to his eyes. 

Above the height of mountains interposed ; 

rty what strange parallax, or optic skill 

Of vision multiplied through air, or glass 

Of telescope, were curious to inquire ; 

And now the tempter thus his silence broke : 

1 Italy, which is washed by the Mediterranean on the south, ant! 
screened by the Northern Alps on the north, and divided in thr 
Tudst, bv '^-9, river Tiber. 2 Northern. 



•<^ 



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^ >&* 

l. iv. 44-81. PARADISE REGAINED. 341 

" The city which thou seest nc other deem 
Than great and glorious Home, queen of the earth 
So far renowned, and with the spoils enriched 
Of nations ; there the capitol thou seest 
A.bove the rest lifting his stately head 
On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel 
Impregnable, and there Mount Palatini 
The imperial palace, compass huge, and hi°;!. 
The structure, skill of noblest architects, 
With gilded battlements, conspicuous far, 
Turrets and terraces, and glittering spires. 
Many a fan edifice besides, more like 
Houses of gods (so well T have disposed 
My any microscope), thou mayst behold 
Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs, 
Carved work, the hand 1 of famed artificers 
In cedar, marble, ivory, or gold. 
Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and see 
What conflux issuing forth, or entering in : 
Praetors, proconsuls to then provinces 
Hasting, or on return, in robes of state ; 
Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power, 
Legions and cohorts, tumis 2 of horse and wings ; 
Or embassies from regions far remote 
In various habits on the Appian 3 road, 
Or on the Emilian, some from farthest south, 
Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, 
Meroe, Nilotic isle, and more to west, 
The realm of Bocchus 4 to the Black-moor sea . 
From the Asian kings, and Parthian among these, 
From India and the golden Chersonese, 
And utmost Indian isle, Taprobane, 

Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreathed, : 

From Gallia, Gades, and the British west, 
Germans and Scythians, and Sarmatians north 
Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool. 5 
All nations now to Rome obedience pay, 
To Rome's great emperor, whose wide domain 
In ample territory, wealth and power, 

1 Handywork, a Latinism, as in Virg. iEn. i. 455. 

2 Troops, the Latin turma. 

3 The Appian road from Eome led towards the S , the Emili.-.n 
towards the N. of Italy. 

4 Mauritania 6 The Palus Mreotw. 



4- 



4— — y 

342 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. p. iv. 83-119. 

Civility of manners, aits and arms, 
And long renown, thou justly mayst prefer 
Before the Parthian ; these two thrones except, 
The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight, 
Shared among petty kings too far removed; 
These having shown thee, I have shown thee all 
The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory. 
This emperor 1 hath no son, and now is old, 
Old and lascivious, and from Rome retired 
To Caprese, an island small but strong 
On the Campanian shore, with purpose there 
His horrid lusts in private to enjoy, 
Committing to a wicked favourite 2 
All public cares, and yet of him suspicious. 
Hated of all, and hating; with what ease, 
Endued with regal virtues as thou art, 
Appearing, and beginning noble deeds, 
Mightst thou expel this monster from his throne 
Now made a sty, and, in his place ascending, 
A victor people free from servile yoke ? 
And with my help thou mayst; to me the power 
Is given, and by that right I give it thee. 
Aim therefore at no less than all the world, 
Aim at the highest, without the highest attained 
Will be for thee no sitting, or not long, 
On David's throne, be prophesied what will." 
To whom the Son of God unmoved replied : 
" Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show 
Of luxury, though called magnificence, 
More than of arms before, allure mine eye, 
Much less my mind ; though thou shouldst add to lei I 
Their sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feast 7 : 
On citron tables, 8 or Atlantic stone 
(For I have also heard, perhaps have read}, 
Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Falerne, 
Chios, and Crete, 4 and how they quaff in gold, 
Crystal, and myrrhine 5 cups, embossed with gems 

• Tiberius Nero. This account is strictly conformable to history. 
'*' Sejanus. 

s Citron-wood tables were in such request among the Romans, tha< 
fc-iiny calls it rnensarum insania, see Hist. Nat. xiii. 29. 

4 The three former wines were Italian; the two latter Greek. 

5 These kind of cups are constant 7 ^ mentioned together, Pliny 
ftvziii. 2 ; reef nous myrrhine, cups among, fossils. 



A. — _ ►£> 



*& 



♦«*• 



. iv. 1*0-163. PARADISE REGAINED. 343 

And studs of pearl, to me shouldst tell who thirst 

And hunger still. Then emhassies thou show'sfc 

From nations far and nigh : what honour that, 

But tedious waste of time to sit and hear 

So many hollow compliments and lies, 

Outlandish flatteries? Then proceed'st to talk 

Of the emperor, how easily subdued, 

How gloriously ; I shall, thou say'st, expel 

A brutish monster : what if I withal 

Expel a devil who first made him such? 

Let his tormentor conscience find him out ; 

For him I was not sent, nor yet to free 

That people victor once, now vile and base, 

Deservedly made vassal, who once just, 

Frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquered well, 

But govern ill the nations under yoke, 

Peeliug their provinces, exhausted all 

By lust and rapine; first ambitious grown 

Of triumph, that insulting vanity; 

Then cruel, by their sports to blood inured 

Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts exposed, 

Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, 

And from the daily scene effeminate. 

What wise and valiant man would seek to free 

These thus degenerate, by themselves enslaved, 

Or could of inward slaves make outward free ? 

Know, therefore, when my season comes to sit 

On David's throne, it shall be like a tree 

Spreading and overshadowing all the earth, 

Or as a stone that shall to pieces dash 

All monarchies besides throughout the world, 

And of my kingdom there shall be no end : 

Means there shall be to this, but what the means. 

Is not for thee to know, nor me to tell." 

To whom the tempter impudent replied : 
" I see all offers made by me how slight 
Thou valuest, because offered, and reject'st; 
Nothing will please the difficult and nice, 
Or nothing more than still to contradict : 
On the other side know also thou, that I 
On what I offer set as high esteem, 
Nor what I part with mean to give for nought; 
All these which in a moment thou behold'st. 
The kingdoms of the world to thee I give ; 



<>• 



* ^> ' — - ^ 

344 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. u. iv. 164 -19;, 

For given to me, I give to whom I please, 
No trifle ; yet with this reserve, not else, 
On this condition, 1 if thou wilt fall down. 
And worship me as thy superior lord, 
Easily done, and hold them all of me ; 
For what can less so great a gift deserve ? " 

Whom thus our Saviour answered witV disdain • 
" I never liked thy talk, thy offers less, 
Now both abhor, since thou hast dared to utter 
The abominable terms, impious condition ; 
But I endure trw time, till which expired, 
Thou hast permission on me. It is written 
The first of all commandments, ' Thou shalt worship 
The Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve ; ' 
And dar'st thou to the Son of God propound 
To worship thee, accursed, now more accursed 
For this attempt bolder than that on Eve, 
And more blasphemous ? which expect to rue 
The kingdoms of the world to thee were given, 
Permitted rather, and by thee usurped ; 
Other donation none thou canst produce : 
If given, by whom but by the King of Kings, 
God over all supreme ? If given to thee, 
By thee how fairly is the giver now 
.Repaid? But gratitude in thee is lost 
Long since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame, 
As offer them to me, the Son of God, 
To me my own on such abhorred pact, 2 
That I fall down and worship thee as God ? 
Get thee behind me; plain thou now appear'st 
That evil one, Satan for ever damned." 

To whom the fiend with fear abashed replied i 
" Be not so sore offended, Son of God, 
Though sons of God both angels are and men, 
If I to try whether in higher sort 
Than these thou bear'st that title, have proposed 

1 " In lily opinion," says Bishop Newton (and with good reason). 
n there is not anything in the disposition and conduct of the whole 
poem so justly liable to censure as the awkward and pr jposterous in- 
troduction of this incident in this place. The tempter should hav<> 
proposed the condition at the same time that he offered the gifts, as 
he does likewise in Scripture ; hut, after his gifts had been absolutely 
refused, to what purpose was it to propose the ' impious condition "' 

* Treaty, agreement 



4- 



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—$* 



w* 



b. iv. 200-241. PARADISE REGAINED. 345 

What both from men and angels I receive, 

Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth 

Rations besides from all the quartered winds, 

God of this world invoked and world beneath ; 

Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold 

To me so fatal, me it most concerns. 

The trial hath endamaged thee no way, 

Rather more honour left and more esteem ; 

Me nought advantaged, missing what I aimed. 

Therefore let pass, as they are transitory, 

The kingdoms of this world ; I shall no more 

Advise thee ; gain them as thou canst, or not. 

And thou thyself seem'st otherwise inclined 

Than to a worldy crown, addicted more 

To contemplation and profound dispute, 

As by that early action may be judged, 

When slipping from thy mother's eye thou went'st 

Alone into the temple, there wast found 

Among the gravest rabbis disputant 

On points and questions fitting Moses' chair, 

Teaching, not taught ; the childhood shows the man. 

As morning shows the day. Be famous then 

By wisdom ; as thy empire must extend, 

So let extend thy mind o'er all the world 

In knowledge, all things in it comprehend : 

All knowledge is not couched in Moses' law, 

The Pentateuch, or what the prophets wrote : 

The Gentiles also know, and write and teach 

To admiration, led by nature's light ; 

And with the Gentiles much thou must converse, 

Ruling them by persuasion as thou mean'st ; 

Without their learning how wilt thou with them, 

Or they with thee, hold conversation meet? 

How wilt thou reason with them, how refute 

Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes? 

Error by his own arais is best evinced. 

Look once more ere we leave this specular mount 1 

Westward, much nearer by south-west, behold 

Where on the ih-gean shore a city stands 

Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil ; 

Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of aits 

And eloquence, native to famous wits 

* Like " mount of speculation " in Bar- Lost, xii. 588 

4. 



346 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. «. iv. 242-272. 

Or hospitable, in "her sweet recess, 

City or suburban, studious walks and shades; 

See there the olive grove of Academe, 1 

Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird 2 

Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long s 

There flowery hill Hymettus, with the sound 

Of bees' industrious murmur, oft invites 

To studious musing ; there Ilissus rolls 

His whispering stream : within the walls then view 

The schools of ancient sages ; his who bred 

Great Alexander to subdue the world, 

Lyceum 3 there, and painted Stoa 4 next : 

There thou shalt hear and learn the secret power 

Of harmony in tones and numbers hit 

By voice or hand, and various-measured verse , 

iEolian charms and Dorian lyric odes, 

And his who gave them breath, but higher sung. 

Blind Melesigenes, 5 thence Homer called, 

Whose poem Phoebus challenged for his own. 

Thence what the lofty grave tragedians taught 

In chorus or iambic, teachers best 

Of moral prudence, with delight received 

In brief sententious precepts, while they treat 

Of fate and chance, and change in human life . 

High actions and high passions best describing 

Thence to the famous orators repair, 

Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence 

Wielded at will that fierce democratic, 

Shook the arsenal, and fulmined over Greece 

To Macedon 6 and Artaxerxes' throne. 

To sage philosophy next lend thine ear, 

1 A favourite resort for the student and philosophers of A then j 
taking its name from an ancient hero. Cf. Aristoph. Ran. iii. 3 t 
Hor. Ep. ii. 2, 45. 

2 The nightingale, into which Philomela, the daughter of Pandion, 
l\j)g of Athens, is fabled to have been changed. Cf. Mart. Epigr. 
i. 46. 

3 The school of Aristotle, the founder of the Peripatetic philosophy. 

4 The school of Zeno, the founder of the Stoic philosophy. 

5 According to the life of Homer, falsely attributed to Herodotus, 
this was Homer's original name. See my introduction to Pope'a 
Homer, in the National Illustrated Library edition. 

6 As Pericles and others fulmined over Greece to Artaxerxes' throne 
itgainst the Persian king, so Demosthenes was the orator particularly 
vho fulmined over Greece to Macedon t against kins Philip.^ -Nekton, 



4|> 



f 



s. iv. 273~2i5. PARADISE REGAIXED. 347 

From Heaven descended to the low-roofed houtft 
Of Socrates ; see there his tenement, 
Whom well inspired the oracle pronounced 
Wisest of men ; from whose mouth issued forth 
Mellifluous streams that watered all the schools 
Of academics old and new, with those 
Surnamed Peripatetics, and the sect 
Epicurean, and the Stoic severe : 
These here revolve, or, as thou lik'st, at home, 
Till time mature thee to a kingdom's weight. 
These rules will render thee a king complete 
Within thyself, much more with empire joined." 

To whom our Saviour sagely thus replied : 
" Think not hut that I know these things, or think 
I know them not; not therefore am I short 
Of knowing what I ought : he who receives 
Light from above, from the fountain of light, 
No other doctrine needs, though granted true, 
But these are false, or little else hut dreams, 
Conjectures, fancies, huilt on nothing firm. 
The first and wisest of them all professed 
To know this only, that he nothing knew; 
The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits; 
A third sort doubted all things, though plain sense \ 
Others in virtue placed felicity, 
But virtue joined with riches and long life; 
In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease; 
The Stoic last, in philosophic pride, 
By him called virtue ; and his virtuous man. 
Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing, 
Equals to God, oft shames not to prefer, 
As fearing God nor man, contemning all 
Wealth, pleasure, pain, or torment, death and life, 
"Which when he lists he leaves, or boasts he can, 
For all his tedious talk is but vain boast, 
Or subtle shifts conviction to evade. 
Alas ! what can they teach and not mislead, 
Ignorant of themselves, of God much more, 
And how the world began, and how man fell 
Degraded by himself, on grace depending? 
Much of the soul they talk, but all awry, 
And in themselves seek virtue, and to themselves 
All glory arrogate, to God give none, 
Rather accuse biro under usual names, 



•§■ 



■-(> 



*(&, .4). 

348 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. *. iv. 317-355. 

Fortune and Fate, as one regardless quite 

Of mortal things. Who therefore seeks in these 

True wisdom, finds her not, or by delusion, 

Far worse, her false resemblance only meets, 

An empty cloud. However, many books, 

Wise men have said, are wearisome : who reads 

Incessantly, and to his reading brings not 

A spirit and judgment equal or superior 

(And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek ?), 

Uncertain and unsettled still remains, 

Deep versed in books and shallow in himself, 

Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys, 

And trifles for choice matters, worth a sponge 

As children gathering pebbles on the shore. 

Or if I would delight my private hours 

With music or with poem, where so soon 

As in our native language can I find 

That solace ? All our law and story strewed 

With hymns, our psalms with artful terms inscribed,. 

Our Hebrew songs and harps in Babylon, 

That pleased so well our victors' ear, declare 

That rather Greece from us these arts derived ; i 

111 imitated, while they loudest sing 

The vices of their deities, and their own 

In fable, hymn, or song, so personating 

Their gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame 

Kemove their swelling epithets, thick laid 

As varnish on a harlot's cheek, the rest, 

Thin sown with aught of profit or delight, 

Will far be found unworthy to compare 

With Sion's songs, to all true tastes excelling, 

Where God is praised aright, and god-like men, 

The Holiest of Holies, and his saints ; 

Such are from God inspired, not such from thes, 

Unless where moral virtue is expressed 

By light of nature not in all quite lost. 

Their orators thou then extoll'st, as those 

The top of eloquence ; statists 2 indeed, 

And lovers of their country, as may seem ; 



^ 



1 This was the system in vogue at that time. It was established 
:,nd supported with vast erudition by Bochart, and carried to sit 
extravagant and even ridiculous length by Huetius and Gale. — M'-ir- 
Virton. 

3 Statesmen, a ?rord used by Shakspe^w, 



■K&* 



rfw 



*4>* 



b. iv. 356-393. PARADISE REGAINED, 349 

But herein to our prophets far beneath, 

As men divinely taught, and better teaching 

The solid rules of civil government, 

In their majestic, unaffected style, 

Than all the oratory of Greece and Rome. 

In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt, 

What makes a nation happy, and keeps it so. 

What ruins kingdoms, and lays cities flat ; 

These only with our law best form a king." 

So spake the Son of God : but Satan now 
Quite at a loss, for all his darts were spent, 
Thus to our Saviour with stem brow replied : 

" Since neither weal*K nor honour, arms nor arts, 
Kingdom nor empire, pleases thee, nor aught 
By me proposed in life contemplative, 
Or active, tended on by glory or fame, 
What dost thou in this world ? The wilderness 
For thee is fittest place ; I found thee there, 
And thither will return thee ; yet remember 
What I foretell thee : soon thou shalt have cause 
To wish thou never hadst rejected thus 
Nicely or cautiously my offered aid, 
Which would have set thee in short time with ease 
On David's throne, or throne of all the world, 
Now at full age, fullness of time, thy season, 
When j>rophecies of thee are best fulfilled. 
Now contrary, if I read aught in Heaven, 1 
Or Heaven write aught of fate, by what the stars 
Voluminous, or single characters, 
In their conjunction met, give me to spell, 
Sorrows, and labours, opposition, hate, 
Attends thee, scorns, reproaches, injuries, 
Violence and stripes, and lastly cruel death ; 
A kingdom they portend thee, but what kingdom 
Real or allegoric, I discern not, 
Nor when, eternal sure, as without end, 
Without beginning ; for no date prefixed 
Directs me in the starry rubric set." 

* A. satire on Cardan, who, with the holiness and impiety of an 
atheist and a madman, both of which he was, cast the nativity of Jesus 
Christ, and found by the great and illustrious concourse of stars at 
his birth, that he must needs have the fortune which befell him, 
snd become the author of a religion, which should spread itself ffc» 
?nd near for many ages. — Newton. 

^ ^ 






3So MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, b. iv. 394-436. 

So saying he took (for still he knew his power 
Not yet expired), and to the wilderness 
Brought back the Son of God, and left him ttiere 
Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose, 
As daylight sunk, and brought in louring night, 
Her shadowy offspring, unsubstantial both, 
Privation mere of light and absent day. 
Our Saviour meek, and with untroubled mind 
After his airy jaunt, though hurried sore, 
Hungry and cold, betook him to his rest, 
Wherever, under some concourse of shades, 
Whose branching arms, thick intertwined, might shie 
From dews and damps of night his sheltered head, 
But .sheltered slept in vain, for at his head 
The tempter watched, and soon with ugly dreams 
Disturbed his sleep ; and either tropic now 
Gan thunder, and both ends of Heaven, the clouds 
From many a horrid rift abortive poured 
Fierce rain with lightning mixed, water with fire 
In ruin reconciled : nor slept the winds 
Within their stony caves, but rushed abroad 
From the four hinges of the world, and fell 
On the vexed wilderness, whose tallest pines, 
Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks 
Bowed their stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts, 
Or torn up sheer : ill wast thou shrouded then, 
patient Son of God, yet only stood'st 
Unshaken ; nor yet stayed the terror there, 
Infernal ghosts, and hellish furies, round 
Environed thee, some howled, some yelled, some shrieked 
Some bent at thee their fiery darts, while thou 
Sat'st unappalled in calm and sinless peace. 
Thus passed the night so foul, till morning fair 
Bame forth with pilgrim steps in amice 1 gray, 
Who with her radiant finger stilled the roar 
Of thunder, chased the clouds, and laid the winds 
And grisly spectres, which the fiend had raised 
To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire. 
And now the sun, with more effectual beams, 
Had cheered the face of earth, and dried the wet 
From drooping plant, or dropping tree ; the birds, 
Who all things now behold 2 more fresh and green, 
,fter a night of storm so ruinous. 

» Clothing, from auick 2 Probaoly " beheld." 

4. . — -4> 



p. iv. .,37 -a 7 3. PARADISE REGAINED. 351 

Cleared np their choicest notes in Lush Rnd spray 
To gratulate the sweet return of morn; 
Nor yet amidst this joy and brightest morn 
Was absent, after all his mischief done, 
The prince of darkness, glad would also seem 
Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came, 
Yet with no new device, they all were spent, 
Rather by this his last affront resolved, 
Desperate of better course, to vent his rage, 
And mad despite to be so oft repelled. 
Him walking on a sunny hill he found, 
Backed on the north and west by a thick wood ; 
Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape, 
And in a careless mood thus to him said : 

" Fair morning yet betides thee, Son of God, 
After a dismal night; I heard the wrack 
As earth and sky would mingle ; but myself 
Was distant ; and these flaws, though mortals fear them 
As dangerous to the pillared frame of Heaven, 
Or to the earth's dark basis underneath, 
Are to the main as inconsiderable, 
And harmless, if not wholesome, as a sneez6 
To man's less universe, and soon are gone : 
Yet as being oft-times noxious where they light 
On man, beast, plant, wasteful and turbulent, 
Like turbulencies in the affairs of men, 
Over whose heads they roar, and seem to point, 
They oft fore-signify and threaten ill: 
This tempest at this desert most was bent ; 
Of men at thee, for only thou here dwell'st. 
Did I not tell thee, 1 if thou didst reject 
The perfect season offered with my aid 
To win thy destined seat, but wilt prolong 
All to the push of fate, pursue thy way 
Of gaining David's throne no man knows when, 
For both the when and how is no where told, 
Thou shalt be what thou art ordained, no doubt; 
For angels have proclaimed it, but concealing 
The time and means: each act is rightliest done, 
Not when it must, but when it may be best 
If thou observe not this, be sure to find, 
Whs.b I foretold thee, many a hard assay 

* This sentence is, as Newton observes, " dark an^J perplnw ~$ 
hft7ing no proper exit." 



+&• 



>* 



\* 



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352 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. b.iv. 479 - 522 



Of dangers, and adversities, and pains, 

Ere thou of Israel's sceptre get fast hold ; 

Whereof this ominous night that closed thee lound, 

So many terrors, voices, prodigies, 

May warn thee, as a sure foregoing sign." 

So talked he ; while the Son of God went on 
And stayed not, but in brief him answered thus : 

" Me worse than wet thou find'st not , otner harm 
Those terrors which thou speak'st of did me none ; 
I never feared they could, though noising loud 
And threatening nigh ; what they can do as signs 
Betokening, or ill boding, I contemn 
As false portents, not sent from God, but thee ; 
Who knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, 
Obtrud'st thy offered aid, that I accepting, 
At least might seem to hold all power of thee, 
Ambitious spirit, and wouldst be thought my God, 
And storm'st refused, thinking to terrify 
Me to thy will. Desist, thou art discerned, 
And toil'st in vain, nor me in vain molest. 

To whom the fiend, now swollen with rage, replied. 
" Then hear, Son of David, virgin-born ; 
For Son of God to me is yet in doubt : 
Of the Messiah I have heard foretold 
By all the prophets ; of thy birth at length 
Announced by Gabriel with the first I knew, 
And of the angelic song in Bethlehem field, 
On thy birth-night, that sung thee Saviour born.. 
From that time seldom have I ceased to eye 
Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth, 
Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred 
Till at the ford of Jordan, whither all 
Flocked to the Baptist, I among the rest, 
Though not to be baptized, by voice from Heaven 
Heard thee pronounced the Son of God beloved, 
Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer vie^ 
And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn 
In what degree or meaning thou art called 
The Son of God, which bears no single sense; 
The son of God I also am, or was, 
And if I was, I am ; relation stands ; 
All men are sons of God ; yet thee I thought 
In some respect far higher so declared. 
Therefore I watched thy footsteps from that bouiv 






-6* 



p. iv. 523-563. PARADISE REGAINED. 353 

And followed thee still on to this waste wild , 

Where by all best conjectures I collect 

Thou art to be my fatal enemy. 

Good reason then, if I beforehand seek 

To understand my adversary, who 

And what he is; his wisdom, power, intent; 

By paiie, or composition, truce, or league 

To win him, or win from him what I can. 

And opportunity I here have had 

To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found th&c 

Proof against all temptation, as a rock 

Of adamant, and as a centre, firm, 

To the utmost of mere man both wise and good, 

Not more; for honours, riches, kingdoms, glory, 

Have been before contemned, and may again : 

Therefore to know what more thou art than man, 

Worth naming Son of God by voice from Heaven, 

Another method I must now begin." 

So saying, he caught him up, and, without wing 
Of hippogrif, 1 bore through the air sublime 
Over the wilderness and o'er the plain ; 
Till underneath them fair Jerusalem, 
The holy city, lifted high her towers, 
And higher yet the glorious temple reared 
Her pile, far off appearing like a mount 
Of alabaster, topped with golden spires : 
There on the highest pinnacle he set 
The Son of God, and added thus in scorn : 

" There stand, if thou wilt stand ; to stand upright 
Will ask thee skill ; I to thy Father's house 
Have brought thee, and highest placed, highest is best, 
Now show thy progeny ; if not to stand, 
Cast thyself down; safely, if Son of God , 
For it is written, ' He will give command 
Concerning thee to his angels, in their hands 
They shall up-lift thee, lest at any time 
Thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone.'" 

To whom thus Jesus : " Also it is written, 
Tempt not the Lord thy God : " he said and stood : 
But Satan, smitten with amazement, fell. 
As when earth's son, Antaeus (to compare 

1 A quiz upoD Ariosto, with whom this horse-griffin monster ;s i„ 
/sai fVonrifs. 

^ —fy 



354 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 1. 1 v. 564-605 

LSmall things with greatest) in Irassa 1 strove 

With Jove's Alcides, and oft foiled still rose, 

Receiving from his mother earth new strength. 

Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple joined, 

Throttled at length in the air, expired and fell : 

Bo after many a foil the tempter proud, 

Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride 

Fell whence he stood to see his victor fall. 

And as that Theban monster 2 that proposed 

Her riddle, and him who solved it not devoured 

That once found out and solved, for grief and spite 

Cast herself headlong from the Ismenian 3 steep : 

So struck with dread and anguish fell the fiend, 

And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought 

Joyless triumphals of his hoped success, 

Ruin, and desperation, and dismay, 

Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. 

So Satan fell ; and straight a fiery globe 

Of angels on full sail of wing flew nigh, 

Who on their plumy vans received him soft 

From his uneasy station, and upbore, 

As on a floating couch, through the blithe air, 

Then in a flowery valley set him down 

On a green bank, and set before him spread 

A table of celestial food, divine, 

Ambrosial fruits, fetched from the tree of life, 

And from the fount of life ambrosial drink, 

That soon refreshed him wearied, and repaired 

What hunger, if aught hunger had impaired, 

Or thirst ; and as he fed, angelic quires 

Sung heavenly anthems of his victory 

Over temptation, and the tempter proud. 

" True image of the Father, whether throned 
In the bosom of bliss, and light of light 
Conceiving, or remote from Heaven, enshrined 
In fleshly tabernacle, and human form, 
Wandering the wilderness, whatever place, 
Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing 
The Son of God, with godlike force endued 
Against the attempter of thy Father's throne, 
And thief of Paradise; him long of old 
Thou didst debel, 4 and down from Heaven cast 

I A city in Libya. 2 The Sphinx. * 'II :\*,>k 

4 War down, subdue, from the Latin debellav, 



V" 






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b. iv. 606-639. PARADISE REGAINED. 355 

With all his army ; now thou hast avenged 

Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing 

Temptation, hast regained lost Paradise, 

And frustrated the conquest fraudulent : 

He never more henceforth will dare set foot 

In Paradise to tempt ; his snares are broke : 

For though that seat of earthly bliss be failed. 

A fairer Paradise is founded now 

For A dam and his chosen sons, whosa thou 

A Saviour art come down to reinstal 

Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall hi 

Of tempter and temptation without fear. 

But thou, infernal serpent, shalt not long 

Rule in the clouds ; like an autumnal star 

Or lightning thou shalt fall from Heaven, trod down 

Under his feet; for proof, ere this thou feel'st 

Thy wound, yet not thy last and deadliest wound, 

By this repulse received, and hold'st in Hell 

No triumph ; in all her gates Abaddon rues 

Thy bold attempt; hereafter leara with awe 

To dread the Son of God : he all unarmed 

Shall chase thee with the terror of his voice 

From thy demoniac holds, possession foul, 

Thee and thy legions; yelling they shall fly, 

And beg to hide them in a herd of swine, 

Lest he command them down into the deep 

Bound, and to torment sent before their time. 

Hail ! Son of the Most High, heir of both worlds, 

Queller of Satan, on thy glorious work 

Now enter, and begin to save mankind." 

Thus they the Son of God, our Saviour meek, 
Bung victor, and from heavenly feast refreshed 
Brought on Ms way with joy ; he unobserved 
Heine to his mother's house private returned 



GND OF PARADISE BEOAJKBO 



* 4 



*?**■ 



Samson %pnMn! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



TpayySia [ilfiijffiQ irpa^sojQ ayovSaiag. — k. r. X- 

Aeistot. Pcet., f4tp. 7t 

irsgoediaestimitatio actionis serige, &c, per miserieordiam et mettux 
perficiens talium affectuum lastrationem. 



OF THAT SOET OF DEAMATIC POEM WHICH IS 
CALLED TEAGEDY. 

Tragedy, as it was anciently composed, hath been ever 
held the gravest, moralest, and most profitable of all othe2 
poems ; therefore said by Aristotle to be of power, by raising 
pity and fear, or terror, to purge the mind of those and 
such like passions, that is, to temper and reduce them to 
just measure with a kind of delight, stirred up by reading 

1 The tragedy of "Samson Agonistes" has been celebrated as the 
second work of the great author of "Paradise Lost," and opposed, 
with all the confidence of triumph, to the dramatic performances </ 
other nations. It contains, indeed, just sentiments, maxims ofwi3* 
dom, and oracles of piety, and many passages written with the ancient 
spirit of choral poetry, in which there is a just and pleasing mixtuif 
of Seneca's moral declamation, with the wild enthusiasm of the Greek 
writers. It is therefore worthy of examination, whether a perform- 
ance thus illuminated with genius, and enriched with learning, is 
composed according to the indispensable laws of Aristotelian criti- 
cism ; and, omitting at present all other considerations, whether it 
exhibits a beginning, a middle, or an end. 

The beginning is undoubtedly beautiful and proper, opening with 
ft graceful abruptness, and proceeding naturally to a monrnful recital 

4 — — •& 



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SAMSON A GONIS TES. 357 

Of seeing those passions well imitated, Nor is nature 
ranting in her own effects to make good his assertion : fo- 
so in physic, things of melancholic hue and quality are 
nsed against melancholy, sour against sour ; salt to remove 
ealt humours. Hence, philosophers and other gravest 
writers, as Cicero, Plutarch, and others, frequently cite ouj 
af tragic pcets, both to adorn and illustrate their discourse 
The Apostle Paul himself thought it not unworthy to insert 
a verse of Euripides into the text of Holy Scripture, 1 Co* 
xv. 33 ; and Parseus, commenting on the Kevelation, divides 
the whole hook as a tragedy, into acts distinguished each 
by a chorus of heavenly harpings and song between. 
Heretofore, men in highest dignity have laboured not a 
little to be thought able to compose a tragedy. Of that 
honour Dionysius the elder was no less ambitious, than 
before of his attaining to the tyranny. Augustus Cassar 
also begun bis Ajax, but unable to please his own judg- 
ment with what he had begun, left it unfinished. Seneca, 
the philosopher, is by some thought the author of those 
tragedies (at least the best of them) that go under that 
name. Gregory Nazianzen, a. father of the church, thought 
it not unbeseeming the sanctity of his person to write a 
tragedy, which is entitled " Christ Suffering." This is men- 
tioned to vindicate tragedy from the small esteem, or rather 
infamy, which, in the account of many, it undergoes at 
this day with other common interludes ; happening through 
the poets' error of intermixing comic stuff with tragic sad- 
ness and gravity ; or introducing trivial and vulgar persons, 
which by all judicious hath been counted absurd ; and 
brought in without discretion, corruptly to gratify the 
ceople. And though ancient tragedy use no prologue, yet 
using sometimes, in case of self defence or explanation, 
that which Martial calls an epistle ; in behalf of this tra- 
gedy coming forth after the ancient manner, much different 
!rom what among us passes for best, thus much befora 
hand may be epistled ; that chorus is here introduced after 
the Greek manner, not ancient only but modern, and still 
in use among the Italians. In the modelling, therefore, ci 

of facts necessary to be known. Samson's soliloquy is interrupted b\ 
a chorus or company of men of his own tribe, who condole Lis 
miseries, extenuate his fault, and conclude with a solemn vindicatioa 
of divine justice. So that, at the conclusion of the first act, there i? 
no design laid, no discovery made, nor any disposition formed, \,o« 
"vards the consequent event- — Johnson, Earn bier, No. 139. 



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3 «;8 MIL TON 'S POE TICAL WORKS. 

this poem, with good reason, the ancients and Italians are 
rather followed, as of much more authority and fame, 
The measure of verse used in the chorus is of all sorts, 
called by the Greeks Monostrophic, or rather Apolely- 
menon, without regard had to Strophe, Antistrophe, or 
Epode, which were a kind of stanzas framed only for the 
music then used with the chorus that sung; not essential 
to the poem, and therefore not material ; or being divided 
into stanzas or pauses, they may be called Allceostropha 
Division into act and scene referring chiefly to the stag8 
(to which this work never was intended), is here omitted. 

It suffices if the whole drama be found not produced 
beyond the fifth act. Of the style and uniformity, and thai 
'ommonly called the plot, whether intricate or explicit, 
which is nothing, indeed, but such ceconomy or disposition. 
of the fable as may stand best with verisimilitude and do 
corum; they only will best judge who are not unacquainted 
with iEschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the three tragic 
poets unequalled yet by any, and the best rule to all who 
endeavour to write tragedy. The circumscription of time, * 
wherein the whole drama begins and ends, is, according to 
ancient rule and best example, within the space of twenty- 
four hours. 



the ters0n3. 

Samson. 

Manoah, the Father of Samson 

Dalila, his Wife. 

Harapha of Oath. 

Public Officer. 

Messenger. 

Clwrns of Danites. 

'€hs Scene before the Prison in Gzmcl 



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SAMSON AGONISTES. 



359 



TITS ARGUMENT. 

Samson made captive, blind, and now in the prison at Gaza, there t 
Jabour as in a common worimcuse, on a festival day, in the general 
cessation from labour, comes forth into tbe open air to a place 
nigh, somewhat retired, there to sit awhile and bemoan his condi- 
tion ; where he happens at length to be visited by certain friend* 
and equals of his tribe, which make the Chorus, who seek to conr 
fort him what they can ; then by his old father, Manoah, who 
endeavours the like, and withal tells him his purpose to procure 
his liberty by ransom ; lastly, that this feast was proclaimed by the 
Philistines as a day of thanksgiving for their deliverance from the 
hands of Samson, which yet niore troubles him. Manoah then 
departs to prosecute hi's endeavour with the Philistian lords for 
Samson's redemption ; who in the mean while is visited by other 
persons, and lastly by a public officer, to require his coming to the 
feast before the lords and people, to play or show his strength in 
their presence: he at first refuses, dismissing the public officer 
with absolute denial to come ; at length, persuaded inwardly that 
this was from God, he yields to go along with him, who came now 
the second time with great threatenings to fetch him. The Chorua 
yet remaining on the place, Manoah returns, full of joyful hope, to 
procure ere long his son's deliverance ; in the midst of which dis- 
course an Hebrew comes in haste, confusedly at first, and afterward 
more distinctly, relating the catastrophe, what Samson had done to 
the Philistines, and by accident to himself; wherewith the tragedy 
ends. 



SAMSON. 

A little onward lend thy guiding hand 1 
To these dark steps, a little further on ; 
For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade : 
There I am wont to sit when any chance 
Relieves me from my task of servile toil, 
Daily in the common prison else enjoined me, 
Where I a prisoner chained, scarce freely draw 
The air imprisoned also, close and damp, 
Unwholesome draught : but here I feel amends, 
The breath of Heaven fresh blowing, pure and sweet, 
With day spring born ; here leave me to respire. 
This day a solemn feast the people hold 
To Dagon their sea idol, 2 and forbid 

1 The opening scene of this tragedy is highly suggestive of the 
.ommencenient of the GCdipus at Colonus of Sophocles, where the 
>lind CEdipus is introduced, guided by his daughter Antigone. 

2 See ncte on Para^'s Q , Lest, i. 4u2. 



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360 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 14-57. 

Laboiious works ; unwillingly this rest 

Their superstition yields me ; hence with leave 

Retiring from the popular noise, I seek 

This unfrequented place to find some ease, 

Ease to the body some, none to the mind 

From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm 

Of hornets armed, no sooner found alone, 

But rush upon me thronging, and present 

Times past, what once I was, and what am now. 

Oh, wherefore was my birth from Heaven foretold 

Twice by an angel, who at last in sight 

Of both my parents all in flames ascended 

¥rom off the altar, where an offering burned, 

As in a fiery column charioting 

His god-like presence, and from some great act 

Or benefit revealed to Abraham's race ? 

Why was my breeding ordered and prescribed 

As of a person separate to God, 

Designed for great exploits ; if I must die 

Betrayed, captived, and both my eyes put out, 

Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze ; 

To grind in brazen fetters under task 

With this Heaven-gifted strength ? glorious strong tl 

Put to the labour of a beast, debased 

Lower than bondslave ! Promise was that I 

Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver ; 

Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him 

Eyeless in Gaza, at the mill with slaves, 

Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke : 

Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt 

Divine prediction ; what if all foretold 

Had been fulfilled but through mine own default 

Whom have I to complain of but myself ? 

Who this high gift of strength committed to me, 

In what part lodged, how easily bereft me, 

Under the seal of silence could not keep, 

But weakly to a woman must reveal it, 

O'ercome with importunity and tears. 

O impotence of mind, in body strong ! 

But what is strength without a double share 

Of wisdom? vast, unwieldy, burdensome, 

Proudly secure, yet liable to fall 

By weakest subtleties, not made to rule, 

But to subserve where wisdom bears command 1 



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58-95. SAMSON AGONISTES. 361 

God, when he gave me strength, to show withal 

How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair. 

But peace ! I must not quarrel with the will 

Of highest dispensation, which herein 

Haply had ends above my reach to know \ 

Suffices that to me strength is my bane, 

And proves the source of all my miseries; 

So many and so huge, that each apart 

Would ask a life to wail ; but chief of all, 

loss of sight, of thee I most complain ! 

Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, 

Dungeon or beggary, or decrepit age ! 

Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, 

And all her various objects of delight 

Annulled, which might in part my grief have eased , 

Inferior to the vilest now become 

Of man or worm ; the vilest here excel me ; 

They creep, yet see J I, dark in light, exposed 

To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong, 

Within doors, or without, still as a fool, 

In power of others, never in my own ; 

Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half, 

Oh, dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 

Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse, 

Without all hope of day ! 

O first created beam, and thou great Word, 

" Let there be light ! " and light was over all ; 

Why am I thus bereaved thy prime decree ? 

The sun to me is dark 

And silent as the moon, 

When she deserts the night, 

Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.* 

Since light so necessary is to life, 

And almost life itself, if it be true 

That light is in the soul, 

She all in every part : why was the sight 

To such a tender ball as the eye confined, 

So obvious and so easy to be quenched ? 

* Perhaps, as Thyer observes, alluding to the notion yaich o*T* 
p»>et has adopted from Hesiod, in Paradise Lost, vi. 4: — 

" There is a cave 
Within the mount of God, fast by his throne. 
Where light and darkness in perpetual round 
T«od45e and dislodge by turrt£>" 



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§62 MILTON' Z> POETICAL WORKS. 96-13* 

And not as feeling through all parts diffu3ed, 

That she might look at will through every pore ? 

Then had I not been thus exiled from light, 

As in the land of darkness, yet in light, 

To live a life half dead, a living death. 

And buried ; but, oh, yet more miserable ! 

.•Myself, my sepulchre, a moving grave, 

Juried, yet not exempt 

By privilege of death and burial 

From worst of other evils, pains and wrongs, 

But made hereby obnoxious more 

To all the miseries of life, 

Life in captivity 

Among inhuman foes. 

But who are these ? for with joint pace I hear 

The tread of many feet steering this way ; 

Perhaps my enemies, who come to stare 

At my affliction, and perhaps to insult, 

Their daily practice to afflict me more 

CHORUS. 

This, this is he ; softly awhile, 
Let us not break in upon him : 
Oh, change beyond report, thought, or belief 1 
See how he lies at random, carelessly diffused, 1 
With languished head unpropped, 
As one past hope, abandoned, 
And by himself given over ; 
In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds 
O'er-worn and soiled ; 

Or do my eyes misrepresent ? Can this be he, 
That heroic, that renowned, 
Irresistible Samson ? whom unarmed 
No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast could withstand, 
Who tore the lion, as the lion tears the kid , 
Kan on embattled armies clad in iron, 
And weaponless himself; 
Made arms ridiculous, useless the forgery 
Of brazen shield and spear, the hammered cuiras3, 
Chalybean 2 tempered steel, and frock of mail, 
Adamantean proof; 
But safest he who stood aloof, 

1 Poured, stretched out. 

2 So called from the Chalybes, who wero famons for their 8\ill in 
tendering steel, 



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1^-109. SAMSON AGONISTES. 363 

When insupportably his foot advanced, 1 

In scorn of their proud arms and warlike tools, 

Spurned them to death by troops. The bold Ascalonite 

Fled from his lion ramp, old warriors turned 

Their plated backs under his heel ; 

Or grovelling soiled their crested helmets in the dust 

Then with what trivial weapon came to hand, 

The jaw of a dead ass, his sword of bone, 

A thousand foreskins fell, the flower of Palestine, 

In Eamath-lechi 2 famous to this day. 

Then by main force pulled up, and on Ms shoulders bore 

The gates of Azza, post, 3 and massy bar, 

Up to the hill by Hebron, seat of giants old, 4 

No journey of a sabbath-day, 5 and loaded so ; 

Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up Heaven 

Which shall I first bewail, 

Thy bondage or lost sight, 

Prison within prison, 

Inseparably dark 9 

Thou art become (oh, worst imprisonment !) 

The dungeon of thyself; thy soul 

(Which men enjoying sight oft without cause complaitt, 

Imprisoned now indeed, 

In real darkness of the body dwells, 

Shut up from outward light 

To incorporate with gloomy night; 

For inward light, alas ! 

Puts forth no visual beam. 

mirror of our fickle state, 
Since man on earth unparalleled ! 
The rarer thy example stands, 
By how much from the top of wondrous glory, 
Strongest of mortal men, 
To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fallen. 

1 For this nervous expression Milton was probably indebted to 
Spenser, F. Q. i. 7, 11 :— 

" Tbat when the knight he spied, he 'gan advance 
With huge force, and insupportable main." — Thyer. 

2 Cf. Judges xv. 17. 
8 Some propose to read "posts," from Judges xvi. 3. 

^Josh. xv. 13 sq. ; Numbers xiii. 33. 
5 A Sabbath-day's journey was probably about from three-quarters 
to the whole of a geographical mile.— See Kitto's Cyclop, ii., p 
169 sq. 



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364 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 170-207. 

!For him I reckon not in high estate 
Whom long descent of birth 
Or the sphere of fortune raises; 
But thee whose strength, while virtue was \&t mate. 
Might have subdued the earth, 
Universally crowned with highest praises. 

SAMSON. 

I hear the sound of words, their sense the air 
Dissolves unjointed ere it reach my ear 

CHORUS. 

He speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in mights 
The glory late of Israel, now the grief; 
We come, thy Mends and neighbours not unknown, 
• From Eshtaol and Zora's 1 fruitful vals 
To visit or bewail thee ; or, if better, 
Counsel or consolation we may bring, 
Salve to thy sores ; apt words have power to swage 
The tumours of a troubled mind, 
And are as balm to festered wounds 

SAMSON 

Your coming, friends, revives me, for I learn 
Now of my own experience, not by talk, 
How counterfeit a coin they are who friends 
Bear in their superscription (of the most 
I would be understood) : in prosperous days 
They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their head, 
Not to be found, though sought. Ye see, friends 
How many evils have enclosed me round ; 
Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me. 
Blindness, for had I sight, confused with shame, 
How could I once look up, or heave the head, 
Who like a foolish pilot have shipwrecked 
My vessel trusted to me from above, 
Gloriously rigged ; and for a word, a tear, 
.Fool ! have divulged the secret gift of God 
To a deceitful woman ? Tell me, Mends, 
Am I not sung and proverb ed for a fool 
In every street? Do they not say, How well 
Are come upon him his deserts? Yet why? 
Immeasurable strength they might behold 



In me, of wisdom nothing more than mean ; 

1 Both cities of the tribe of Da» the latter being Samson's birt 
•riase. 



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k>8-2 4 6. SAMSON AGONISTES. 3^5 

This with the other should, at least, nave paired, 
These two proportioned ill drove me transverse 

CHORUS. 

Tax not divine disposal ; wisest men 
Have erred, and by bad women been deceived , 
And shall again, pretend they ne'er so wise 
Deject not then so overmuch thyself, 
Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides ; 
Yet truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder 
Why thou shouldst wed Philistian women ratbei 
Than of thine own tribe fairer, or as fair, 
At least of thy own nation, and as noble 

SAMSON. 

The first I saw at Timna, 1 and she pleased 
Me, not my parents, that I sought to wed 
The daughter of an infidel : they knew not 
That what I motioned was of God ; I knew 
From intimate impulse, and therefore urged 
The marriage on ; that by occasion hence 
I might begin Israel's deliverance, 
The work to which I was divinely called 
She proving false, the next I took to wife 
(Oh that I never had ! fond wish too late) 
Was in the vale of Sorec, 2 Dalila, 
That specious monster, my accomplished snare. 
I thought it lawful from my former act, 
And the same end ; still watching to oppress 
Israel's oppressors : of what now I suffer 
She was not tha prime cause, but I myself, 
Who vanquished with a peal of words (Oh weakness?) 
Gave up my fort of silence to a woman 

CHORUS. 

In seeking just occasion to provoke 
The Philistine, thy country's enemy, 
Thou never wast remiss, I bear thee witness 
Yet Israel still serves with all his sons. 

SAMSON. 

That fault I take not on me, but transfer 
On Israel's governors, and heads of tiibes, 
Who seeing those great acts, which God had done 
Singly by me against their conquerors, 
Acknowledged not, or not at all considered 
Deliverance offered : I, on the other side, 

1 Judges jriv. l. 3 J-adges xvi. 4, 



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366 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 247-28*, 

Used no ambition 1 to commend my deeds, 

The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the loex 

But they persisted deaf, and would not seem 

To count them things worth notice, till at length 

Their lords, the Philistines, with gathered powers, 

Entered Judea seeking me, who then 

Safe to the rock of Etham 2 was retired, 

Not flying, but forecasting in what place 

To set upon them, what advantaged best : 

Meanwhile the men of Judah, to prevent 

The harass o f their land, beset me round ; 

I willingly en some conditions came 

Into their hands, and they as gladly yield me 

To the uncircumcised a welcome prey, 

Bound with two cords; but cords to me were threads 

Touched with the flame : on their whole host I flew 

Unarmed, and with a trivial weapon felled 

Their choicest youth ; they only lived who fled 

Had Judah that day joined, or one whole tribe, 

They had by this possessed the towers of Gath, 

And lorded over them whom now they serve. 

But what more oft in nations grown corrupt, 

And by their vices brought to servitude, 

Than to love bondage more than liberty, 

Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty; 

And to despise, or envy, or suspect 

Whom God hath of his special favour raised 

As their deliverer ; if he aught begin, 

How frequent to desert him, and at last 

To heap ingratitude on worthiest deeds? 

CHORUS 

Thy words to my remembrance bring 
How Succoth and the fort of Penuel 
Their great deliverer contemned, 
The matchless Gideon in pursuit 
Of Madian and her vanquished kings : 
And how ingrateful Ephraim 
Had dealt with Jephtha, who by argument, 
Not woyhh than by his shield and spear, 
Defended Israel from the Ammonite, 
Had not his prowess quelled their pride 
In that sore battle, when so many died 

1 Made no elaborate canvass, sought not to curry favour ; froiii tin 
Latin electioneering term, arnhire. 2 . Judges xy. tf. 



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8- 3 2 9 . SAMSON AGONISTES. 367 

Without reprieve adjudged to death, 

For want of well pronouncing Shibboleth. 

SAMSON 

Of such examples add me to the roll, 
Me easily indeed mine may neglect, 
13ut God's proposed deliverance not so 

CHORUS. 

Just are the ways of God, 
And justifiable to men ; 
Unless there be who think not God at all • 
If any be, they walk obscure ; 
For of such doctrine never was there school, 
But the heart of the fool, 
And no man therein doctor but himself. 

Yet more there be who doubt his ways not jus!, 
As to his own edicts found contradicting, 
Then give the reins to wandering thought, 
Regardless of his glory's diminution ; 
Till by their own perp^xities involved 
They ravel more, still less resolved, 
But never find self-satisfying solution. 

As if they would confine the Interminable, 
And tie him to his own prescript, 
Who made our laws to bind us, not himself, 
And hath full right to exempt 
Whom so it pleases him by choice 
From national obstriction, without taint 
Of sin, or legal debt ; 

or with his own laws no can best dispense. 

lie would not else who never wanted means, 

or in respect of the enemy just cause 

set his people free, 
Have prompted this heroic Nazarite, 
Against his vow of strictest purity, 
To seek in marriage that fallacious bride, 
Unclean, unchaste. 

Down reason then, at least vain reasonings dowa< 
Though reason here aver 
That moral verdict quits her of unclean: 
Unchaste was subsequent, her stain not his. 

But see, hero comes thy reverend sire 
With careful step, locks white as down, 
Old Manoah : advise 
Frn-thwith bow thou ouphtat fc* revive mm 



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MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 330-369, 



Ay ma ! another inward grief awaked 
With mention of that name renews the assault 

MANOAH. 

Brethren and men of Dan, for such ye seem, 
Thoi"gh in this uncouth place ; if old respect, 
Is I suppose, towards your once gloried friend, 
My son now captive, hither hath informed 
four younger feet ; while mine, cast hack with ago. 
Came lagging on after ; say if he be here 

CHOEUS. 

As signal now in low dejected state, 
As erst in highest, behold him where he lies 

MANOAH. 

Oh, miserable change ! is this the man, 
That invincible Samson, far renowned, 
The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength 
Equivalent to angels walked their streets, 
None offering fight; who single combatant 
Duelled their armies ranked in proud array, 
Himself an army, now unequal match 
To save himself against a coward armed 
At one spear's length. Oh, ever-failing trust 
In mortal strength ! and oh, what not in man 
Deceivable and vain ? Nay, what thing good 
Prayed for, but often proves our woe, our bane ? 
I prayed for children, and thought barrenness 
In wedlock a reproach ; I gained a son, 
And such a son as all men hailed me happy ; 
Who would be now a father in my stead? 
Oh, wherefore did God grant me my request, 
And, as a blessing, with such pomp adorned ? 
Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt 
Our earnest prayers, then given with solemn hand 
As graces, draw a scorpion's tail behind? 
For this did the angel twice descend ? for this 
Ordamed thy nurture holy, as of a plant 
Select, and sacred, glorious for a while. 
The miracle of men : then in an hour 
Ensnared, assaulted, overcome, led bound, 
Thy foes' derision, captive, poor, and blind, 
Into a dungeon thrust, to work with slavey 
Alas! methmks whom God hath chosen cfnce 
To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty err 



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370-4". SAMSON AGONISTES. 369 

He should not so o'erwhelm, and as a thrall 

Subject him to so foul indignities, 

Be it but for honour's sake of former agenda. 

SAMSON. 

Appoint 1 not heavenly disposition, father; 
Nothing of all these evils hath befallen rae 
But justly; I myself have brought them on, 
Sole author I, sole cause : if aught seem vile, 
As vile hath been my folly, who have profaned 
The mystery of God given me under pledge 
Of vow, and have betrayed it to a woman, 
A Canaanite, my faithless enemy 
This well I knew, nor was at all surprised, 
But warned by oft experience : did not she 
Of Timna first betray me, and reveal 
The secret wrested from me in her height 
Of nuptial love professed, carrying it straight 
To them who had corrupted her, my spies, 
And rivals? In this other was there found 
More faith, who also in her prime of love, 
Spousal embraces, vitiated with gold, 
Though offered only, by the scent conceived 
Her spurious first-born, treason against me ? 
Thrice she assayed with flattering prayers and sighs, 
And amorous reproaches, to win from me 
My capital secret, in what part my strength 
Lay stored, in what part summed, that she might knoA7 ; 
Thrice I deluded her, and tinned to sport 
Her importunity, each time perceiving 
How openly, and with what impudence 
She purposed to betray me, and (which was worse 
Than undissembled hate) with what contempt 
She sought to make me traitor to myself; 
Yet the fourth time, when mustering all her wiles, 
With blandished parleys, feminine assaults, 
Tongue-batteries, she surceased not day nor night 
To storm me over-watched, and wearied out, 
At times when men seek most repose and rest, 
X yielded, and unlocked her all my heart, 
Who with a grain of manhood well resolved 
Might easily have shook off all her snares ; 
But foul effeminacy held me yoked 
Her bond-slave; oh, indignity! oh, blot 
1 Arraign, 



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370 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 412-45*. 

To honour and religion ! servile mind 
Rewarded well with servile punishment ! 
The base degree to which I now am fallen, 
These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base 
As was my former servitude, ignoble, 
Unmanly, ignominious, infamous. 
True slavery, and that blindness worse than this.. 
That saw not how degenerately I seived 

MANOAH. 

I cannot praise thy marriage choices, son ; 
Rather approved them not; but thou didst plead 
Divine impulsion prompting how thou might'st 
Find some occasion to infest our foes 
T state not that; this I am sure, our foes 
"Found soon occasion thereby to make thee 
Their captive, and their triumph ; thou the sooner 
Temptation found'st, or over-potent charms 
To violate the sacred trust of silence 
Deposited within thee ; which, to have kept 
Tacit, was in thy power : true, and thou bear'st 
Enough, and more, the burden of that fault; 
Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying 
That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains; 
This day x the Philistines a popular feast 
Here celebrate in Gaza; and proclaim 
Great pomp, and sacrifice, and praises loud 
To Dagon, as their god who hath delivered 
Thee, Samson, bound and blind into their hands 
Them out of thine, who slew'st them many a slai 
So Dagon shall be magnified, and God, 
Besides whom is no God, compared with idols, 
Disglorified, blasphemed, and had in scorn 
By the idolatrous rout amidst their wine ; 
Which to have come to pass by means of thee, 
Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest, 
Of all reproach the most with shame that ever 
Could have befallen thee and thy father's house. 

SAMSON. 

Father, I do acknowledge and confess 
That I this honour, I this pomp have brought 
To Dagon, and advanced his praises high 
Among the heathen round; to God have brought 
Dishonour obloquy, and opod the mouths 
1 c* J'otyus xvi 23. 



V 



*V* 



3-494. SAMSON AGONISTES. 371 

Of idolists and theists; have brought scandal 
'£o Israel, diffidence of God, and doubt 
In feeble hearts, propense enough before 
To waver, or fall off and join with idols ; 
Which is my chief affliction, shame, and sorrow 
the anguish of my soul, that suffers not 
}fine eye to harbour sleep, or thoughts to rest 
.This only hope relieves me, that the strife 
With me hath end ; all the contest is now 
Twixt God and L>agon ; Dagon hath presumed, 
Me overthrown, to enter lists with God, 
His deity comparing and preferring 
Before the God of Abraham. He, be sure, 
Will not connive, or linger, thus provoked, 
But will arise and his great name assert : 
Dagon must stoop, and shall ere long receive 
Such a discomfit, as shall quite despoil him 
Of all these boasted trophies won on me, 
And with confusion blank his worshippers. 

MANOAH. 

With cause this hope relieves thee, and these word* 
i as a prophecy receive ; for God, 
Nothing more certain, will not long defer 
To vindicate the glory of his name 
Against all competition, nor will long 
Endure it doubtful whether God be Lord, 
Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be dons F 
Thou must not in the mean while here forgot 
Lie in tins miserable loathsome plight, 
Neglected. I already have made way 
To some Philistian lords, with whom to treat 
About thy ransom : well they may by this 
Have satisfied their utmost of revenge 
By pains and slaveries, worse than death, inflicted 
On thee, who now no more canst do them harm 

SAMSON 

Spare that proposal, father, spare the troiibfe 

Of that solicitation ; let me here, 

As I deserve, pay on my punishment ; 

And expiate, if possible, my crime, 

Shameful garrulity. To have revealed 

Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend, 

How heinous had the fact been, how deserving 

Contempt and scon of all, to be excluded 



t 



in MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 495-533. 

All friendship, and avoided as a blab 
The mark of fool set on his front ! But I 
God's counsel ha re not kept, his holy secret 
Presumptuously have published, impiously, 
Weakly at least, and shamefully , a sin 
That Gentiles 1 in their parables condemn 
To their abyss and horrid pains confined 

MANOAH 

Be penitent and for "toy fault contrite, 
But act not in thy own affliction, son -, 
Bepent the sin, but if the punishment 
Thou canst avoid, self-preservation bids ■ 
Or the execution leave to high disposal, 
And let another hand, not thine, exact 
Thy penal forfeit from thyself; perhaps 
God will relent, an^ quit thee all his debt ; 
Who ever more approves and more accepts 
(Best pleased with humble and filial submission) 
Him who imploring raercy sues for life, 
Than who self-rigorous chooses death as due ; 
Which argues over-just, and self-displeased 
For self-offence, more than for God offended 
Beject not then what offered means ; who knows 
But God hath set before us, to return thee 
Home to thy courtry and his sacred house, 
Where thou mayst bring thy offerings, to avert 
His further ire, with prayers and vows renewed ? 

SAMSON 

His pardon I implore ; but as for life, 
To what end shorn d I seek it ? when in strength 
All mortals I excelled, and great in hopes 
With youthful courage and magnanimous thought 
Of birth from Heaven foretold and high exploits, 
Full of divine instinct, after some proof 
Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond 
The sons of Anak, famous now and blazed, 
Fearless of danger, like a petty god 
f walked about admired of all, and dreaded 
On hostile ground, none daring my affront. 2 
Then swollen with pride into the snare I fell 
Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains, 

1 Alluding to the story of Tantalus, who, for revealing the secrets 
»i the gods, was condemned to the torments of Hell. 

2 a. c. none daring to meet me face to faes 



* 



♦ 



134-57* SAMSON AGONISTES. 373 

Softened with pleasure and voluptuous life ; 
At length to lay my head and hallowed pledge 
Of all my strength in the lascivious lap 
Of a deceitful concubine, who shore me 
Like a tame wether, all 1 my precious fleece, 
Then turned me out ridiculous, despoiled, 
Shaven, and disarmed among mine enemies. 

CHOEUS. 

Desire of wine and all delicious drinks, 
Which many a famous warrior overturns, 
Thou couldst repress, nor did the dancing ruby 
Sparkling, out-poured, the flavour, or the smell, 
Or taste that cheers the heart of gods and men, 
Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. 

SAMSON. 

Wherever fountain or fresh, current flowed 
Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure, 
With touch ethereal of Heaven's fiery rod, 
1 drank, from the clear milky juice allaying 
Thirst, and refreshed: nor envied them the grape 
Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes 

CHORUS. 

Oh ! madness, to think use of strongest wines 
And strongest drinks our chief support of health 
When God with these forbidden made choice to 
His mighty champion, strong above compare, 
Whose drink was only from the liquid brook. 8 

SAMSON. 

But what availed this temperance, not complete 
Against another object more enticing? 
What boots it at one gate to make defence, 
And at another to let in the foe, 
Effeminately vanquished ? by which mean3, 
Now blind, disheartened, shamed, dishonoured, quelled 
To what can I be useful, wherein serve 
My nation, and the work from Heaven imposed, 
But to sit idle on the household hearth, 
&. burdenous drone ; to visitants a gaze, 
Or pitied object, these redundant locks 
Robustious to no purpose clustering down, 
Vain monument of strength ; till length oi years 

1 Meadowcourt would read, "c/my precious fleece;" but t*i?*t 
Sflenis no occasion for the alteration. 
8 &s being a Nazarite, Judges xiii. 7. 



•<& 



— <>♦ 



-> 



374 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 571-605. 

And sedentary numbness craze 1 my limbs 
To a contemptible old age obscure ? 
Here rather let me drudge and earn my bread, 
Till vermin or the draff of servile food 
Consume me, and oft-invocated death 
Hasten the welcome end of all my pains. 

MANOAH. 

Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with that gift 
Which was expressly given thee to annoy them 9 
Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle, 
Inglorious, unemployed, with age outworn. 
But God, who caused a fountain at thy prayer 
From the dry ground 2 to spring, thy thirst to allay 
After the brunt of battle, can as easy 
Cause light again within thy eyes to spring, 
Wherewith to serve him better than thou hast ; 
And I persuade me so , why else this strength 
Miraculous yet remaining in those locks? 
His might continues in thee not for nought, 
Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus. 

SAMSON. 

All otherwise to me my thoughts portend, 
That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light. 
Nor the other light of life continue long, 
But yield to double darkness nigh at hand : 
So much I feel my genial spirits droop, 
My hopes all flat, nature within me seems 
In all her functions weary of herself, 
My race of glory run, and race of shame, 
And I shall shortly be with them that rest 

MANOAH. 

Believe not these suggestions, which proceed 
From anguish of the mind and humours black. 
That mingle with thy fancy. I, however, 
Must not omit a father's timely care 
To prosecute the means of thy deliverance 
By ransom, or how else : meanwhile be calm, 
And healing worc^from these thy fri&nds admit 

Used as In Paradise Lost, xii. 210. 

2 According to the Chaldee paraphr&st of Judges xv. 18 sq. Out 
translation lias — " But God clave an hollow place that was in (he jow t 
Dd there came water thereout." The original word, Lehi, signifies 
**th a jaw, and a place so called. — Newton. 



+<&4 



ih 



606-647. SAMSON AGONISTES. 375 

SAMSON. 

Oh, that torment should not be confined 
To the body's wounds and sores, 
With maladies innumerable 
In heart, head, breast, and reins ; 
But must secret passage iind 
To the inmost mind, 
There exercise all his fierce accident^ 
And on her purest spirits prey, 
As on entrails, joints and limbs, 
With answerable pains, but more intense, 
Though void of corporal -sense ! 

My griefs not only pain me 
As a lingering disease, 
But, finding no redress, ferment and rage, 
Nor less than wounds immedicable 
Barikle, and fester, and gangrene, 
To black mortification. 

Thoughts my tormentors armed with deadly stings 
Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts, 
Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise 
Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb 
Or medicinal liquor can assuage, 
Nor breath of vernal air from snowy Alp. 1 
Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er 
To death's benumbing opium as my only cure : 
These faintings, swoonings of despair. 
And sense of Heaven's desertion. 

I was his nurseling once, and choice delight, 
His destined from the womb, 
Promised by heavenly message twice descending* 
Under his special eye 
Abstemious I grew up and thrived amain , 
He led me on to mightiest deeds 
Above the nerve of mortal arm 
Against the uncircumcised, our enemies ; 
But now hath cast me off as never known, 
And to those cruel enemies, 
Whom I by his appointment had provoked, 
Left me all helpless with the irreparable loss 
Of sight, reserved alive to be repeated 
The subject of their cruelty or scorn. 
Nor am I in the list of them that hope , 
1 Used here for any moustak* 



*Y 



ih 



t 



376 MILTON -S POETICAL WORKS. 648-687. 

Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless ; 
This one prayer yet remains, might I be heard, 
No long petition, speedy ieath, 
The close of all my miseries, and the balm. 
CH0BU8. 
Many are the sayings of the wise 
In ancient and in modem books enrolled, 
Extolling patience as the truest fortitude ; 
And to the bearing well of all calamities, 
All chances incident to man's frail life, 
Consolatories writ 1 

With studied argument, and much persuasion sought 1 
Lenient of grief 3 and anxious thought : 
But with the afflicted in his pangs their sound 
Little prevails, or rather seems a tun^ 
Harsh, and of dissonant mood from nis complaint, 
Unless he feel within 
Some source of consolation from above, 
Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, 
And fainting spirits uphold. 

God of our fathers ! what is man, 
That thou towards him with hand so various, 
Or might I say contrarious, 

Tempered thy providence through his short course, 
Not evenly, as thou rul'st 
!Fhe angelic orders and inferior creatures mute, 
Irrational and brute. 
Nor do I name of men the common rout, 
That wandering loose about 
Grow up and perish, as the summer fly, 
Heads 4 without name no more remembered, 
But such as thou hast solemnly elected, 
fVith gifts and graces eminently adorned, 
To some great work, thy glory, 
And people's safety, which in part they effect « 
Yet toward these thus dignified, thou oft, 
Amidst their height of noon, 

Changest thy countenance, and thy hand with no regar 
Of highest favours past 
From thee on them, or them to thee of service, 

Nor only dost degrade them, or remit 

1 Are written- 2 Is soft. 8 Capable of assuaging grie£ 
4 People. 



♦^ ►$♦ 



*&-- 



4- 



+&' 



688-722. SAMSON AGONISTES. 377 

To life obscured, which were a fair dismission, 

But throw'st them lower than thou didst exalt them high 

Unseemly falls in hiunan eye, 

Too grievous for the trespass or omission; 

Oft leav'st them to the hostile sword 

Of heathen and profane, their carcases 

To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captived ; 

Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, 1 

And condemnation of the ungrateful multitude. 

If these they 'scape, perhaps in poverty 2 

With sickness and disease thou bow'st them down, 

Painful diseases and deformed, 

In crude 3 old age; 

Though not disordinate, yet causeless suffering 

The punishment of dissolute days: in fine, 

Just or unjust alike seem miserable, 

For oft alike both come to evil end. 

So deal not with this once thy glorious champion, 
The image of thy strength, and mighty minister. 
What do I beg ? How hast thou dealt already ? 
Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn 
His laboms, for thou canst, to peaceful end. 

But who is this? what thing of sea or land ? 
Female of sex it seems, 
That so bedecked, ornate, and gay, 
Comes this way sailing 
Like a stately ship 
Of Tarsus, bound for the isles 
Of Javan or Gadire, 4 
With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, 
Sails filled, and streamers waving, 
Courted by all the winds that hold them, play 
An amber scent of odorous perfume 
Her harbinger, a damsel train behind ; 
Some rich Philistian matron she may seeru. 

Here no doubt Milton reflected upon the trials and sufferings of 
his party after the Restoration ; and probably be might have in r>ind 
particularly the case of Sir Harry Vane, whom he has so highly cele- 
brated in one of his sonnets. — Newton. 

2 This was Milton's own ease. 

3 Premature. 

4 Cadiz. On this comparison, see Warburton's note on Sbakspeare, 
Merry Wives, iii, 8. 



^ 



K3/+ 



4>, 



378 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 723-76*. 

And now, at nearer view, no other certain 
* Than Dalila thy wife. 

SAMSON. 

My wife, my traitress ! let her not come near me. 

CHORUS. 

Yet on she moves, now stands and eyes thee fixed, 
£bout to have spoke, but now, with head declined 
_ike a fair flower surcharged with dew, she weeps, 
And words addressed seem into tears dissolved, 
Wetting the borders of her silken veil : 
But now again she makes address to speak. 

DALILA. 

With doubtful feet and wavering resolution 
I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson, 
Which to have merited, without excuse, 
I cannot but acknowledge ; yet if tears 
May expiate (though the fact more evil drew 
In the perverse event than I foresaw), 
My penance hath not slackened, though my pardon 
No way assured. But conjugal affection, 
Prevailing over fear and timorous doubt, 
Hath led me on, desirous to behold 
Once more thy face, and know of thy estate, 
If aught in my ability may serve 
To lighten what thou sufferest, and appease 
Thy mind with what amends is in my power, 
Though late, yet in some part to recompense 
My rash but more unfortunate misdeed. 

SAMSON. 

Out, out, hyena ! these are thy wonted arts, 
And arts of every woman false like thee, 
To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray, 
Then as repentant to submit, beseech, 
And reconcilement move with feigned remorse ; 
Confess, and promise wonders in her change, 
Not truly penitent, but chief to try 
Her husband, how far urged his patience heart 
His virtue or weakness which way to assail : 
Then with more cautious and instructed skili 
Again transgresses, and again submits ; 

!That wisest and best men full oft beguiled, 
With goodness principled not to reject 
The penitent, but ever to forgive, 
Are drawn to wear out miserable da^'B. 

iL ; ^ 




./vflfW 

SAMSON AGONISTES. 

Out, out, HyEena ; these are thy wonted arts, 
And arts of every woman false like thee. 



763-805. SAMSON AGONISTES. 379 

Intangled with a poisonous bosom snake, 
If not by quick destruction soon cut off 
As I by thee, to ages an example. 

DALILA. 

Yet hear me, Samson ; not that I endeavour 
To lessen or extenuate my offence ; 
But that on the other side, if it be weighed 
By itself, with aggravations not surcharged, 
Or else with just allowance counterpoised, 
I may, if possible, thy pardon find 
The easier towards me, or thy hatred less. 
First granting, as I do, it was a weakness 
In me, but incident to all our sex, 
Curiosity, inquisitive, importune 
Of secrets, then, with like infirmity 
To publish them, both common female faults : 
Was it not weakness also to make known 
For importunity, that is for nought, 
Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety ? 
To what I did thou show'dst me first the way 
But I to enemies revealed, and should not : 
Nor shouldst thou have trusted that to woman's frailty : 
Ere I to thee, thou to thyself wast cruel. 
Let weakness then with weakness come to parle, 
So near related, or the same of kind, 
Thine forgive mine ; that men may censure thin e 
The gentler, if severely thou exact not 
More strength from me, than in thyself was found. 
And what if love, which thou interpret'st hate, 
The jealousy of love, powerful of sway 
In human hearts, nor less in mine towards thee. 
Caused what I did ? I saw thee mutable 
Of fancy ; feared lest one day thou wouldst leave nr* 
As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore 
How to endear, and hold thee to me firmest : 
No better way I saw than by importuning 
To learn thy secrets, get into my power 
Thy key of strength and safety : thou wilt say, 
Why then revealed? I was assured by those 
Who tempted me, that nothing was designed 
Against thee but safe custody, and ho]d ■ 
That made for me ; I knew that liberty 
Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises, 
While I at home sat full of cares and fears. 






"^ 



380 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 806-845. 

Wailing thy absence in my widowed bed; 

Here I should still enjoy thee day and night, 

Mine and love's prisoner, not the Philistines ; 

Whole to myself, unhazarded abroad, 

Fearless at home of partners in my love. 

These reasons in love's law have passed for good, 

Though fond and reasonless to some, perhaps ; 

And love hath oft, well meaning, wrought much woe, 

Yet always pity or pardon hath obtained. 

Be not unlike all others, not austere 

As thou art strong, inflexible as steel 

If thou in strength all mortals dos* exceed, 

Jn uncompassionate anger do not so. 

SAMSON. 

How cunningly the sorceress displays 
Her own transgressions, to upbraid me mine ! 
That malice, not repentance, brought thee hither,, 
By this appears: I gave, thou say'st, the example; 
I led the way ; bitter reproach, but true ; 
I to myself was false ere thou to me ; 
Such pardon therefore as I give my folly, 
Take to thy wicked deed ; which when thou scest 
Impartial, self-severe, inexorable, 
Thou wilt renounce thy seeldng, and much rather 
Confess it feigned : weakness is thy excuse, 
And I believe it; weakness to resist 
Philistian gold : if weakness may excuse, 
What murderer, what traitor, parricide, 
Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it? 
All wickedness is weakness : that plea, therefore, 
With God or man will gain thee no remission. 
But love constrained thee ; call it furious rage 
To satisfy thy lust : love seeks to have love : 
My love how couldst thou hope, who took'st the way 
To raise in me inexpiable hate, 
Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betrayed ? * 
In vain thou striv'st to cover shame with shama, 
Or by evasions thy crime uncover'st more. 

DALILA. 

Since thou determin'st weakness for no plea 
In man or woman, though to thy own condemning, 
Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides, 
* ?£he same construction is in Paradise Lost, ix. 792 :— 
" And knew not eating death." 



*<"*■ 



(+H 



+4h 



846-888. SAMSON AGONISTES. 381 

What sieges girt me round, ere I consented ; 

Which might have awed the best resolved of men, 

The constantfest, to have yielded without blame. 

It was not gold, as to my charge thou lay'st, 

That wrought with me : thou know'st the magistrates 

And princes of my country came in person, 

Solicited, commanded, threatened, urged, 

Adjured by all the bonds of civil duty 

And of religion; pressed how just it was, 

How honourable, how glorious to entrap 

A common enemy, who had destroyed 

Such numbers of our nation : and the priest 

Was not behind, but ever at my ear, 

Preaching how meritorious with the gods 

It would be to ensnare an irreligious 

Dishonourer of Dagon : what had I 

To oppose against such powerful arguments? 

Only my love of thee held long debate, 

And combated in silence all these reasons 

With hard contest : at length that grounded maxim 

So rife and celebrated in the mouths 

Of wisest men, that to the public good 

Private respect must yield, with grave authority 

Took full possession of me and prevailed ; 

Virtue, as I thought, truth, duty, so enjoining. 

SAMSON. 

I thought where all thy circling wiles would end. 
In feigned religion, smooth hypocrisy. 
But had thy love, still odiously pretended, 
Been, as it ought, sincere, it would have taught thes 
Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds. 
I, before all the daughters of my tribe, 
And of my nation, chose thee from among 
My enemies, loved thee, as too well thou knew st, 
Too well, unbosomed all my secrets to thee, 
Not out of levity, but overpowered 
By thy request, who could deny thee nothing; 
Yet now am judged an enemy. Why then 
Didst thou at first receive me for thy husband, 
Then, as since then, thy country's foe professed? 
Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave 
Parents and country ; nor was I their subject 
Nor under their protection but my own, 
Thou mine, not theirs ■ if aught against my life 



-■;.-:- 



3$2 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. S8 9 - 9 *8. 

Thy country sought of thee, it sought unjustly, 

Against the law of nature, law ©f nations, 

No more thy country, hut an impious crew 

Of men conspiring to uphold their state 

By worse than hostile deeds, violating the ends 

For which our country is a name so dear ; 

Not therefore to be obeyed. But zeal moved thee 

To please thy gods thou didst it : gods unable 

To acquit themselves, and prosecute their foes 

But by ungodly deeds, the contradiction 

Of their own deity, gods cannot be ; 

Less therefore to be pleased, obeyed, or feared. 

These false pretexts and varnished colours failing, 

Bare in thy guilt how foul must thou appear ! 

DALILA. 

In argument with men a woman ever 
Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause 

SAMSON. 

For want of words, no doubt, or lack of breath ; 
Witness when I was worried with thy peals. 

DALILA. 

I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken 
In what I thought would have succeeded best. 
Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson ; 
Afford me place to show what recompense 
Towards thee I intend for what I have misdone, 
Misguided ; only what remains past cure 
Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist 
To afflict thyself in vain : though sight be lost, 
Life yet hath many solaces, enjoyed 
Where other senses want not their delights 
At home in leisure and domestic ease, 
Exempt from many a, care and chance to which 
Eyesight exposes daily men abroad. 
I to the lords will intercede, not doubting 
Their favourable ear, that I may fetch thee 
From forth this loathsome prison-house, to abide 
With me, where my redoubled love and care 
With nursing diligence, to me glad office, 
May ever tend about thee to old age 
With all things grateful cheered, and so supplied, 
That what by me thou hast lost thou least shalt miss 

SAMSON. 

No no, of my condition take no care ; 



4. 



dw 



929-964. SAMSON AG0N1STES. 383 

It fits not; thou and I long since are twain , 

Nor think me so unwary or accursed, 

To hring rny feet again into the snare 

Where once I have been caught ; I know thy trains 

Though dearly to my cost, thy gins, and toils ; 

Thy fair enchanted cup and warbling charms ' 

No more on me have power ; their force is nulle-V 

So much of adder's wisdom 2 I have learned 

To fence my ear against thy sorceries. 

If iti my flower of youth and strength, when all men 

Loved, honoured, feared me, thou alone couldst hate me 

Thy husband, slight me, sell me, and forego me, 

How wouldst thou use me now, blind, and thereby 

Deceivable in most things as a child 

Helpless, thence easily contemned, and scorned, 

And last neglected ? How wouldst thou insult 

When I must live uxorious to thy will 

In perfect thraldom ; how again betray me, 

Bearing my words and doings to the lords 

To gloss upon, and, censuring, frown or smile? 

This jail I count the house of liberty 

To thine, whose doors my feet shall never enter. 

DALILA. 

Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand 

SAMSON. 

Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance wake 
My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint 
At distance I forgive thee, go with that ; 
Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works ' 
It hath brought forth to make thee memorable 
Among illustrious women, faithful wives : 
Cherish thy hastened widowhood with the gold 
Of matrimonial treason : so farewell. 

DALILA. 

I see thou art implacable, more deaf 
To prayers than winds and seas ; yet winds to sea3 
Are reconciled at length, and sea to shore • 
Thy anger, unappeasable, still rages, 
Eternal tempest never to be calmed. 

1 Alluding, no doubt, to the story of Circe and the Sirens; but did 
not our author's fondness for Greek learning make him here forget 
that it is a little out of character to represent Samson acquainted with 
the mythology of that country ? — Thyer. 

2 See Psalm Ivui. A, &. 



-*<■)* 



*&* 



3S4 MILTOA } S POETICAL WORKS. 965-100*. 

Wl.y do I humble thus myself, and, suing 

For peace, rear> nothing hut repulse and hate ? 

Bid go with evil omen, and the brand 

Of infamy upon my name denounced ? 

To mix with thy concernments I desist 

Henceforth, nor too much disapprove my own.. 

Fame, if not double-faced, is double-mouthed, 

And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds; 

On both his 1 wings, one black, the other white, 

Bears greatest names in his wild airy flight. 

My name perhaps among the circumcised 

In Dan, in Judah, and the "bordering tribes, 

To all posterity may stand defamed, 

With malediction mentioned, and the blot 

Of falsehood most unconjugal traduced. 

But in my country where I most desire 

(In Ecron, Gaza, Asdod, and in Gath), 

I shall be named among the famousest 

Of women, sung at solemn festivals, 

Living and dead recorded, who, to save 

Her country from a fierce destroyer, chose 

Above the faith of wedlock bands; my tomb 

With odours visited and annual flowers ; 2 

Not less renowned than in Mount Ephraim 

Jael, who with inhospitable guile 

Smote Sisera sleeping through the temples nailed. 

Nor shall I count it heinous to enjoy 

The public marks of honour and reward 

Conferred upon me, for the piety 

Which to my country I was judged to have shown 

At this who ever envies or repines, 

I leave him to his lot, and like my own. 

CIIOEUS. 

She's gone, a manifest serpent by her sting 
Discovered in the end, till now concealed. 

SAMSON 

So let her go ; God sent her to debase me, 
And aggravate my folly, who committed 
To such a viper his most sacred trust 
Of secresy, my safety, and my life 

1 Fame is always a goddess in the (lassie poets; but our author had 
leade the muse masculine in Lycidas. 

a This would seem to have been an orienta." custom, from what we 
read respecting the yearly lwnwtauon for the laughter of Jepntba. 



^ 



<h 



ft. 



33-io^. SAMSON AGONISTES. 3S5 

CHORUS. 

Yet boa-sty, though injurious, hath strange power. 
After offence returning, to regain 
Love once possessed, nor can be easily 
Repulsed without much inward passion felt, 
And secret sting of amorous remorse. 

SAMSON 

Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end. 
$ot wedlock-treachery endangering life. 

CHORUS. 

It is not virtue, 1 wisdom, valour, wit, 
Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit, 
That woman's love can win or long inherit ; 
But what it is, hard is to say, 
Harder to hit 

(Which way soever men refer it) ; 
Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day 
Or seven, though one should musing sit. 

If any of these, or all, the Timnian bride 
Had not so soon preferred 
Thy paranymph, 2 worthless to thee compared. 
Successor in thy bed, 
Nor both so loosely disallied 
Theh nuptials, nor this last so treacherous!* 
Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head. 
Is it for that such outward ornament 
Was lavished on then- sex, that inward gifts 
Were left for haste unfinished, judgment scant, 
Capacity not raised to apprehend 
Or value what is best 
In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong ? 
Or was too much of self-love mixed, 
Of constancy no root infixed, 
That either they love nothing, or not long ? 

Whate'er it be, to wisest men and best 



1 However just the observation may be, tbat Milton, in bis Pars.di?.j 
Lost, seems to court the favour of the female sex, it is very certaij 
tbat be did not carry tbe same complaisance into tbis perforin aneo 
Wbat tbe chorus here says outgoes the very bitterest satire ck 
Euripides. — Thyer. 

It will be recollected that Milton's own domestic life was not f 
happy one, and tbat some of tbe bitterness with which this poem i; 
fraught may be traced to tbat cause. 

- Brideman. Cf. Judges xiv. 20. 

^- ^ 



*&+- 



4 



386 MILTON \S POETICAL WORKS. 1035-10** 

Seeming at first all heavenly under virgii vs : .l, 

Soft, modest, meek, demure, 

Once joined, the contrary she proves, a thorn 

Intestine, far within defensive arms 

A cleaving mischief, 1 in his way to virtue 

Adverse and turbulent, or by her charms 

Draws him awry enslaved 

With dotage, and his sense depraved 

To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends. 

What pilot so expert but needs must wreck 

Embarked with such a steers-mate at the helm ? 

Favoured of Heaven who finds 
One virtuous rarely found, 
That in domestic good combines ; 
Happy that house ! his way to peace is smooth ■ 
But virtue, which breaks through all opposition, 
Most shines, and most is acceptable above. 

Therefore God's universal law 
Gave to the man despotic power 
Over his female in due awe, 
Nor from that right to part an hour, 
Smile she or lour ; 
So shall he least confusion draw 
On his whole life, not swayed 
By female usurpation, or dismayed. 

But had we best retire ? I see a storm 

SAMSON. 

P'air days have oft contracted wind and rain 

CIIOEUS 

But this another kind of tempest brings. 

SAMSON 

Be less abstruse : my riddling days are past 

CHORUS 

Look now for no enchanting voice, nor fear 
The bait of honeyed words: a rougher tongue 
Draws hitherward ; I know him by his stride ; 
The giant Harapha of Gath ; his look 
Haughty as is Iris pile high-built and proud. 
Comes he in peace ? What wind hath blown Mm hittoys 
I less conjecture than when first I saw 
The sumptuous Dalila floating this way : 
His habit carries peace, his brow defiance. 

1 Aji allusion to the poisoned garment sent to Herculef by Iifi» 
aim. 






4* 



T 



—*> 



I 



1074—1105. 



SAMSON AGONISTES. 3^7 



SAMSON. 

Or peace or not, alike to me he jomes. 

CHORUS. 

His fraught we soon shall know: he now ani/oo. 

HARAPHA. 

I come not, Samson, to condole thy chance, 
As these perhaps, yet wish it had not heen, 
Though for no friendly intent. I am of Gath , 
Men call me Harapha, 1 of stock renowned 
As Og or Anak, and the E minis old 
That Kiriathaim 2 held : thou know'st me now, 
If thou at all art known. Much I have heard 
Of thy prodigious might, and feats performed 
Incredible to me ; in this displeased, 
That I was never present on the place 
Of those enco anters, where we might have tried 
Each other's force in camp or listed field ; 
And now am come to see of whom such noise 
Kath walked about, and each limb to survey, 
If thy appearance answer loud report. 

SAMSON. 

The way to know were not to see but taste 

HARAPHA. 

Dost thou already single me ? I thought 
Gyves 3 and the mill had tamed thee. Oh, that fortune 
Had brought me to the field, where thou art famed 
To have wrought such wonders with an ass's jaw I 
I should have forced thee soon with other arms, 
Or left thy carcass where the ass lay tin-own : 
So had the glory of prowess been recovered 
To Palestine, won by a Philistine 
From the unforeskmned race, of whom thou bear'et 
The highest name for valiant acts ; that honour 
Certain to have won by mortal duel from thee, 
/ lose, prevented by thy eyes put out. 

SAMSON. 

Boast not of what thou wouldst have done, but do 
What then thou wouldst ; thou seest it in thy hand. 

1 This character is fictitious, but is properly introduced by the 
poet, and not ■without some foundation in Scripture. Arapba, of 
rather Kapha (says Calniet), was father of the giants of Rephaim 
The word Eapha may likewise signify simply a giant. — Newton . 

2 Cf. Genes siv 5. 
* betters. 

CC 



' -t> 



t 



f 



3S8 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 1106-1x38. 

HARAPHA. 

To combat with a blind man I disdain, 
And thou hast need much washing to be touched 

SAMSON. 

Such usage as your honourable lords 
Afford me, assassinated and betrayed, 
Who durst not with their whole united powers 
In fight withstand me single and unarmed, 
Nor in the house with chamber ambushes 
Close-banded durst attack me, no, not sleeping, 
Till they had hired a woman with their gold, 
Breaking her marriage faith to circumvent me. 
Therefore, without feigned shifts, let be assigned 
Some narrow place enclosed, where sight may give thsfi, 
Or rather flight, no great advantage on me ; 
Then put on all thy gorgeous arms, thy helmet 
And brigandine 1 of brass, thy broad habergeon, 2 
Vant-brass 3 and greaves, 4 and gauntlet, add thy spear, 
A weaver's beam, 5 and seven-times-folded shield, 
I only with an oaken staff will meet thee, 



And raise such outcries on thy clattered iron, 



!>*■ 



Which long shall not withhold me from thy head, 
That in a little time while breath remains thee, 
Thou oft shalt wish thyself at Gath, to boast 
Again in safety what thou wouldst have done 
To Samson, but shalt never see Gath more. 

HARAPHA. 

Thou durst not thus disparage glorious arms, 
Which greatest heroes have m battle worn, 
Their ornament and safety, had not spells 6 
And black enchantments, some magician's art, [Heaven 
Armed thee, or charmed thee strong, which thou frorr. 
Feign'dst at thy birth was given thee in thy hair, 
Where strength can least abide, though all thy hairs 
Were bristles, ranged like those that ridge the back 
Of chafed wild boars, or ruffled porcupines 7 

1 h coat of mail. See Jer. xlvi. 4 ; li. 3. 

3 A coat of mail for the neck and shoulders. 

3 Or vantbrace, avant bras, armour for the arms. 

* Armour for the legs. 

5 Like Goliath's, 1 Sam. xvii. 7. 

s This notion is probably adopted from some of the Italian epic 
poets, who are fond of representing their heroes achieving victory, or 
iuved from danger, by the use of such doubtful means. 

7 Evidently from the "fretted porcupine" of Shakspeare. 



X 



t - 



4- 



1139-1178. SAMSON AGONISTES. 389 

SAMSON. 

I know no sj>ells, use no forbidden arts ; 
My trust is in the living God, who gave me 
At my nativity this strength, diffused 
No less through all my sinews, joints, and hones, 
Than thine, while I preserved these locks unshorn, 
The pledge of my unviolated vow. 
For proof hereof, if Dagon he thy god, 
Go to his temple, invocate his aid 
With solemnest devotion, sj^read before hirr, 
How highly it concerns his glory now 
To frustrate and dissolve these magic spells, 
Which I to be the power of Israel's God 
Avow, and challenge Dagon to the test, 
Offering to combat thee his champion bold, 
With the utmost of his godhead seconded : 
Then thou shalt see, or rather to thy sorrow 
Soon feel, whose God is strongest, thine or mi 

HARAPHA. 

Presume not on thy God, whate'er he be ; 
Thee he regards not, owns not, hath cut off 
Quite from his people, and delivered up 
Into thy enemies' hand, permitted them 
To put out both thine eyes, and fettered send thee 
Into the common prison, there to grind 
Among the slaves and asses, thy comrades, 
As good for nothing else, no better service 
With those thy boisterous locks, no worthy match 
For valour to assail, nor by the sword 
Of noble warrior, so to stain his honour. 
But by the barber's razor best subdued. 

SAMSON. 

All these indignities, for such they are 
From thine, these evils I deserve and more, 
Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me 
Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon 
Whose ear is ever open, and his eye 
Gracious to re-admit the suppliant ; 
In confidence whereof I once again 
Defy thee to the trial of mortal fight, 
By combat to decide whose God is God, 
Thine or whom I with Israel's sons adore 

HARAPHA. 

Fair honour that thou dost thy God, in trusting 



•<> 



* 



39Q 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 1179-1218. 



He will accept thee to defend his cause, 
A murderer, a revolter, and a robber. 

% SAMSON. 

Tongue doughty giant, 5 how dost thou piove me these? 

HAKAPSA. 

Is not thy nation subject to our lords? 
Their magistrates confessed it, when they took thee 
As a league-breaker, and delivered bound 
Into our hands : for hadst thou not committed 
Notorious murder on those thirty men 
At Ascalon, who nevei did thee harm, 
Then, like a robber, stripp'dst them of their robes? 
The Philistines, when thou hadst broke the league, 
Went up with armed power thee only seeking, 
To othaTS did no violence nor spoil. 

SAMSON. 

Among the daughters of the Philistines 
I chose a wife, which argued me no foe ; 
And in your city held my nuptial least : 
But your ill-meaning politician lords, 
Under pretence of bridal friends and guests, 
Appointed to await me thirty spies, 
Who threatening cruel death constrained the brido 
To wring from me and tell to them my secret, 
That solved the riddle which I had proposed. 
When I perceived all set on enmity, 
As on my enemies, wherever chanced, 
I used hostility, and took their spoil 
To pay my underminers in their coin. 
My nation was subjected to your lords ; 
It was the force of conquest ; force with force 
Is well ejected when the conquered can. 
But I, a private person, whom my country 
As a league-breaker gave up bound, presumed 
Single rebellion, and did hostile acts. 
I was no private, but a person raised 
With strength sufficient and command from Hea^ en 
To free my country ; if their servile minds 
Me their deliverer sent would not receive, 
But to their masters gave me up for nought, 
The unworthier they; whence to this day they ser.e, 
I was to do my part from Heaven assigned, 
\nd had performed it, if my known offend© 
1 Speech valiant. 



*w* 



B- 



■^19-1250. SAMSON AGONISTES. 391 

Had not disabled me, not all your force : 
These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant 
Though by his blindness maimed for high attempts, 
Who now defies thee thrice 1 to single fight, 
As a petty enterprise of small enforce. 

HARAPHA. 

With thee! a man condemned, a slave 3nrolled. 
Due by the law to capital punishment P 
To fight with thee no man of arms will deign. 

SAMSON. 

Cam'st thou for this, rain boaster, to survey me, 
To descant on my strength, and give thy verdict ? 
Come neater, part not hence so slight informed ; 
But take good heed my hand survey not thee. 

HARAPHA. 

Baal-zebub ! can my ears unused 

Hear these dishonours, and not render death ? 

SAMSON. 

No man withholds thee, nothing from thy hana 
Fear I incurable ; bring up thy van, 
My heels are fettered, but my fist is free. 

HARAPHA. 

This insolence other kind of answer fits. 

SAMSON. 

Go, baffled coward ! lest I run upon thee, 
Though m these chains, bulk without spirit vast, 
And with one buffet lay thy structure low, 
Or swing thee in the air, then dash thee down 
To the hazard of thy brains and shattered sides 

HARAPHA. 

By Astaroth ! ere long thou shalt lament 
These braveries in irons loaden on thee. 

CHORUS. 

His giantship is gone somewhat crest-falleii 
Stalking with less unconscionable strides, 
And lower looks, but in a sultry chafe 

SAMSON. 

1 dread him not, nor all his giant brood, 
Though fame divulge him father of five son3, 
All of gigantic size, Goliah chief. 

CHORUS. 

He will directly to the lords, I fear, 

1 The usual number in the chivalrous adventures of Vne luiddVi 
men. 



■A* 



392 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 1251-129*. 

And with malicious counsel stir them up 
Borne way or other yet further to afflict thee 

SAMSON. 

He must allege some cause, and offered fight 
Will not dare mention, lest a question rise 
Whether he durst accept the offer or not, 
And that he durst not plain enough appeare.i 
Much more affliction than already felt 
They cannot well impose, nor I sustain ; 
If they intend advantage of my labours, 
The work of many hands, which earns my keeping 
With no small profit daily to my owners. 
But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove 
My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence : 
The worst that he can give, to me the best. 
Yet so it may fall out, because their end 
Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine 
Draw their own ruin who attempt the deed. 

CHORUS. 

Oh, how comely it is, and how reviving 
To the spirits of just men long oppressed ! 
When God into the hands of their deliverer 
Puts invincible might 

To quell the mighty of the earth, the oppressor. 
The brute and boisterous force of violent men 
Hardy and industrious to support 
Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue 
The righteous and all such as honour tiuth; 
He all their ammunition 
And feats of war defeats 
With plain heroic magnitude of mind 
And celestial vigour armed, 
Then- armouries and magazines contemns 
Renders them useless, while 
With winged expedition, 
(Swift as the lightning glance, he executes 
His errand on the wicked, who, surpnised, 
Lose their defence, distracted and amaze' 
But patience is more oft the exercise 

4f saints, the trial of their fortitude, 

taking the«m each his own deliverer, 

t, cd victor over all 

That tyranny or fortune can inflict 

Either of these is in thy lot, 



4 



-^ 



T* 






■293-1329. SAMSON AGONISTES. 393 

Samson, with might endued 
Above the sons of men ; but sight bereaved 
May chance to number thee with those 
Whom patience finally must crown. 

This idol's day hath been to thee no day of ibs* 
Labouring thy mind 
Tlore than the working day thy hands. 
And yet, perhaps, more trouble is behind. 
Tor I descry this way 
Some other tending, in his hand 
A sceptre or quaint staff he bears, 
Comes on amain, speed in his look 
By his habit I discern him now 
A public officer, and now at hand. 
His message will be short and voluble. 

OFFICER. 

Hebrews, the prisoner Samson here I seek. 

CHORUS. 

His manacles remark him, 1 there he sits 
officer. 

Samson, to thee our lords thus bid me say . 
This day to Dagon is a solemn feast, 
With sacrifices, triumph, pomp, and games ; 
Thy strength they know surpassing human rate, 
And now some public proof thereof require 
To honour this great feast, and great assembly , 
Rise therefore with all speed, and come along, 
Where I will see thee heartened and fresh clad. 
To appear as fits before the illustrious lords. 

SAMSON. 

Thou know'st I am an Hebrew, therefore tell their., 
Our law forbids at their religious rites 
My presence ; for that cause I cannot come. 

OFFICER. 

This answer, be assured, will not content them. 

SAMSON. 

Have they not sword-players, and every sort 
Of gynmic artists, wrestlers, riders, runners, 
Jugglers and dancers, antics, mummers, mimics, 
But they must pick me out with shackles tired, 
And over-laboured at their public mill, 
To make them sport with blind activity ? 
Dd they not seek occasion of new quariels 
1 TVMnt Mm cut. 



*^r 



<> 



*4* 



)94 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 1330- 1364. 

On my refusal to distress me more, 
Or make a game of my calamities? 
Return the way thou cam'st, I will not come, 

OFFICEB 

Eegard thyself: this will offend them highly 

SAMSON. 

Myself? my conscience and internal peace 
Can they think me so broken, so debased 
With corporal servitude, that my mind ever 
Will condescend to such absurd commands? 
Although their drudge, to be their fool or jester, 
And in my midst of sorrow and heart-grief 
To show them feats, and play before their god, 
The worst of all indignities, yet on me 
Joined with extreme contempt? I will not conif. 

OFFICER. 

My message was imposed on me with speed, 
Brooks no delay; is this thy resolution? 

SAMSON. 

So take it with what speed thy message needs 

OFFICER. 

I am sorry what this stoutness will produce. 

SAMSON. 

Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow indeed 

CHORUS. 

Consider, Samson ; matters now are strained 
Up to the highth, whether to hold or break ; 
He's gone, and who knows how he may report 
Thy words by adding fuel to the flame ? 
Expect another message more imperious, 
More lordly thundering than thou well wilt bear 

SAMSON. 

Shall I abuse this consecrated gift 
Of strength, again returning with my hah 
After my great transgression ; so requite 
Favour renewed, and add a greater sin 
By prostituting holy things to idols ? 
A Nazarite in place abominable 
Vaunting my strength in honour to their Dagon? 
Besides how vile, contemptible, ridiculous, 
What act more execrably unclean, profane ? 

CHORUS. 

Yet with this strength thou serv'st the Philistine 
Idolatrous, uncircomcjsed, unclean 



'f' : 



-4* 



t 



1365-1398. SAMSON AGONISTES, 39$ 

SAMSON. 

Not in their idol-worship, hut by labour 
Honest and lawful to deserve my food 
Of those who have me in their civil power 

CHORUS. 

Where the heart joins not, outward acts defile not. 

SAMSON. 

Where outward force constrains, the sentence holda 
Bat who constrains me to the temple of Dagon, 
Not dragging? The Philistian lords command : 
Commands are no restraints. If I obey them, 
I do it freely, venturing to displease 
God for the fear of man, and man prefer, 
Set God behind; which in his jealousy 
Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness. 
Yet that he may dispense 1 with me or thee 
Present in temples at idolatrous rites 
For some important eause, thou need'st not doubt 

CHORUS. 

How thou wilt here come off surmounts my reach. 

SAMSON. 

Be of good courage, I begin to feel 
Some rousing motions in me which dispose 
To something extraordinary my thoughts. 
I with this messenger will go along, 
Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonour 
Our law, or stain my vow of Nazarite. 
If there be aught of presage in the mind. 
This day will be remarkable in my life 
By jome great act, or of my days the last. 

CHORUS. 

In time thou hast resolved, the man returns, 

OFFICER. 

Samson, this second message from our lords 
To thee I am bid say. Art thou our slave, 
Our captive, at the public mill our drudge, 
And dar'st thou at our sending and command 
Dispute thy coming? Come without delay; 
Or we shall find such engines to assail 
And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force, 
Though thou wert firmlier fastened thaiv a rock 

1 Perhaps in reference to the story of Naaman the Syrian begging 
i similar dispensation fror*" Elisha. See 2 Kings v. 18 Bq. — Thyer 

fy ^* 



<h 



f 



396 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 1399-1435. 



SAMSON. 

I could be well content to try their art, 
Which to no few of them would prove pernicious. 
Yet knowing then advantages too many, 
Because they shall not trail me through their streets 
Like a wild beast, I am content to go. 
Masters' commands 1 come with a power reajstlew 
To such as owe them absolute subjection ; 
And for a life who will not change his purpose 1 
(So mutable are all the ways of men) 
Yet this be sure, in nothing to comply 
Scandalous or forbidden in our law. 

OFFICEK. 

I praise thy resolution; doff these link 3 ; 
By this compliance thou wilt win the lords 
To favour, and perhaps to set thee free. 

SAMSON. 

Brethren, farewell ; your company along 
I will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them 
To see me girt with friends ; and how the sight 
Of me as of a common enemy, 
So dreaded once, may now exasperate them 
I know not. Lords are lordliest in then* wine • 
And the well-feasted priest then soonest fired 
With zeal, if aught religion seem concerned ; 
No less the people on their holy-days 
Impetuous, insolent, unquench able: 
Happen what may, of me expect to hear 
Nothing dishonourable, impure, unworthy 
Our God, our law, my nation, or myself, 
The last of me or no I cannot warrant. 

CHOBUS. 

Go, and the Holy One 
Of Israel be thy guide 

To what may serve his glory best, and spread hiy name 
Great among the heathen round ; 
Send thee the angel of thy birth, to stand 
Fast by thy side, who from thy father's field 
Bode up in flames after Ms message told 
Of thy conception, and be now a shield 
Of fire ; that Spirit that first rushed on thee 

1 This was a feint, but it had betrayed itself hud it not been ooveitU 
oy fer. 1408.- — Warburton. 



^ 









1436-1475. SAMSON AGONISTES. 397 

In the camp of Dan 
Be efficacious in thee now at need. 
For never was from Heaven imparted 
Measure of strength so great to mortal seed, 
As in thy wondrous actions hath been seen. 
But wherefore comes old Manoah in such haste 
With youthful steps ? much livelier than erewhile 
He seems: supposing here to find his son, 
Or of him bringing to us some glad news ? 

MANOAH. 

Peace with you, brethren ; my inducement hitbe? 
Was not at present here to find my son, 
By order of the lords new parted hence 
To come and play before them at their feast. 
I heard all as I came, the city rings, 
And numbers thither flock, I had no will, 
Lest I should see him forced to things unseemly. 
But that which moved my coming now, was chiefly 
To give ye part with me what hope I have 
With good success to work his liberty 

CHORUS. 

That hope would much rejoice us to partake 
With thee ; say, reverend sue, we thirst to hear 

MANOAH. 

I have attempted one by one the lords 
Either at home, or through the high street passing, 
With supplication prone and father's tears, 
To accept of ransom for my son their prisoner. 
Some much averse I found and wondrous harsh, 
Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite ; 
That part most reverenced Dagon and Iris priests : 
Others more moderate seeming, but their aim 
Private reward, for which both god and state 
They easily would set to sale ; a third 
Mere generous far and civil, who confessed 
They had enough revenged, having reduced 
Their foe to misery beneath then fears 
The rest was magnanimity to remit, 
If some convenient ransom were proposed. 
What noise or shout was that ? it tore the sky 

CHORUS. 

Doubtless the people shouting to behold 
Their once great dread, captive and blind before them 
Or at some proof of strength before them shown 



*- 



^ ^ 



398 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 1476-15". 

MANOAK. 

His ransom, if my whole inheritance 
May compass it, shall willingly be paid 
And numbered down: much rather I shall choos* 
To live the poorest in my tribe, than richest, 
\nd he in that calamitous prison left. 
No, I am fixed not to part hence without him. 
For his redemption all my patrimony, ,' 

If need be, I am ready to forego 
And quit : not wanting him, I shall want nothing 

CHORUS. 

Fathers are wont to lay up for their sons, 
Thou for thy son art bent to lay out all ; 
Sons wont to nurse tfreir parents in old age, 
Thou in old age car'st how to nurse thy son, 
Made older than thy age through eyesight lost 

MANOAH. 

It shall be my delight to tend his eyes, 
And view him sitting in the house, ennobled 
With all those high exploits by him achieved, 
And on his shoulders waving down those locks, 
That of a nation armed the strength contained; 
And I persuade me God had not permitted 
His strength again to grow up with his hair 
Garrisoned round about him like a camp 
Of faithful soldiery, were not his purpose 
To use him further yet in some great service, 
Not to sit idle with so great a gift 
Useless, and thence ridiculous about him. 
And since his strength with eyesight was not lost, 
God will restore him syesight to his strength 

CHORDS. 

Thy hopes are not ill-founded, nor seem vain 
Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon 
Conceived, agreeable to a father's love. 
In both which we, as next, participate 

MANOAH. 

I know your friendly minds, and — Oh, what noise \ 
Mercy of Heaven ! what hideous noise was that ? 
Horribly loud, unlike the former shout. 

CHORUS. 

Noise call you it, or universal groan, 
As if the whole inhabitation perished! 

^_ — ^ 



& 



»A, 



1513-1543. SAMSON AGONISTES. 393 

Blood, death, and deathfui deeds are in that r»o\su ; 
Ruin, destruction at the utmost point. 

MANOAH. 

Of ruin, indeed, methought I heard the noise t 
Oh ! it continues ; they have slain my son ! 

CHORUS. 

Thy son is rather slaying them; that outcry 
From slaughter of one foe coul 1 not ascend. 

MANOAH. 

Some dismal accident it needs must he : 
What shall we do, stay here or run and see ? 

CHORUS. 

Best keep together here, lest running thithei 
We unawares run into danger's mouth. 
This evil on the Philistines is fallen ; 
From whom could else a general cry he heard ? 
The sufferers then will scarce molest us here, 
From other hands we need not much to fear 
What if his eyesight (for to Israel's God 
Nothing is hard) by miracle restored, 
He now be dealing dole among his foes, 1 
And over heaps of slaughtered walk his way ? 

MANOAH. 

That were a joy presumptuous to be thought 

CHORUS. 

Yet God hath wrought things as incredible 
For his people of old ; what hinders now ? 

MANOAH. 

He can, I know, but doubt to think he will ; 
Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief. 
A little stay will bring some notice hither. 

CHORUS. 

Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner; 2 
For evil news rides post, while good news baits 
And to our wish I see one hither sjDeeding, 
An Hebrew, as I guess, a~ d of our tribe 

MESSENGER. 

Oh, whither shall I run, or which way ily 
The sight of this so horrid spectacle, 
Which erst my eyes beheld and yet behold ? 

1 Distributing his gifts and portions among Ms enemies. 

8 C alt on would assign the words, " of bad the sooner ; for evij newa 
rides post, while good news baits" — to Matoah, and the two bl loving 
ones to the chon*"* , 



■ XL,'' 



-^ ^4 

400 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 1544-1571. 

For dire imagination still pursues me. 
But providence or instinct of nature seems* 
Or reason though disturbed, and scarce consulted, 
To have guided me aright, I know not how, 
To thee first, reverend Manoah, and to these 
My countrymen, whom here I knew remaining 
As at some distance from the place of horror, 
So in the sad event too much concerned. 

MANOAH. 

The accident was loud, and here before thee 
With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not; 
No preface needs, 1 thou seest we long to knov;. 

MESSENGER. 

It would burst forth, but I recover breath 
And sense distract, to know well what I utter 

MANOAH. 

Tell us the sum ; the circumstance defer 

MESSENGER. 

Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are fallen ; 
All in a moment overwhelmed and fallen. 

MANOAH. 

Sad, but thou know'st to Israelites not saddest, 
The desolation of a hostile city. 

MESSENGER. 

Feed on that first : there may in grief be surfeit. 

MANOAH. 

Relate by whom ? 

MESSENGER. 

By Samson 

MANOAH. 

That still lessen? 
The sorrow, and converts it nigh to joy. 

MESSENGER. 

Ah ! Manoah, I refrain too suddenly 
To utter what will come at last too soon ; 
I est evil tidings with too rude irruption 
1 (itting thy aged ear should pierce too deep 

MANOAH. 

Suspense in news is torture ; speak them out. 

MESSENGER. 

Take then the worst in brief; Samson is dead I 

MANOAH. 

The worst indeed. Oh, all my hope's defeated 
1 Is Tvantitifj, os in Pmdise Lost, n. 8 Q - 



~*TJ|^* 



f 



4- 



1572-1597. SAMSON AGONISTES. 40* 

To free him hence ! but death, who sets all free, 
Hath paid his ransom now and full discharge. 
What windy joy this day had I conceived, 
Hopeful of his delivery, which now proves 
Abortive as the first-bom bloom of spring 1 
Nipped with the lagging rear of winter's frost! 
Yet ere I give the reins to grief, say first, 
How died he ? death to life is crown or shame 
All by him fell, thou say'st ; by whom fell he ? 
What glorious hand gave Samson his death's wound i 

MESSENGER, 

Unwounded of his enemies he fell. 

MANOAH. 

Wearied with slaughter then, or how ? explain. 

MESSENGER. 

By his own hands. 

MANOAH. 

Self-violence ? What cause 
Brought him so soon at variance with himself 
Among his foes ? 

MESSENGER. 

Inevitable cause 
At once both to destioy and be destroyed . 
The edifice, where all were met to see him, 
Upon Their heads and on his own he pulled 

MANOAH. 

O lastly over-strong against thyself! 
A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge. 
More than enough we know ; but while tilings yet 
Are in confusion, give us, if thou canst, 
Eye-witness of what first or last was done, 
Kelation more particular and distinct 

MESSENGER. 

Occasions drew me early to this city, 
And as the gates I entered with suntise, 

1 Warburton has noticed the imitation of Shakspeare, Henry VIII 
act iii sc. 6 :— 

" This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth 
The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, 
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him ; 
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost; 
And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
His greatness is a ripening, nips his root ; 
And then be fulls, as I do " 



<> 



o 



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402 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. i598-i6 39 « 

The morning trumpets festival proclaimed 

Through each high street: little I had despatched, 

When all abroad was rumoured that this day 

Samson should he brought forth, to show the people 

Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games ; 

I sorrowed at his captive state, but minded 

Not to be absent at that spectacle. 

The building was a spacious theatre, 

Half round, on two main pillars vaulted high, 

With seats where all the lords and each degree 

Of sort, might sit in order to behold ; 

The other side was open, where the throng 

On banks and scaffolds under sky might stand, 

I among these aloof obscurely stood. 

The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice 

Had filled their hearts with mirth, high cheer, a*id win*, 

When to their sports they turned. Immediately 

Was Samson as a public servant brought, 

In their state livery clad : before him pipes 

And timbrels ; on each 6ide went armed guards, 

Both horse and foot; before him and behind, 

Archers and slingers, cataphracts 1 and spears. 

At sight of him the people with a shout 

Kifted the air, clamouring their god with praise, 

Who had made their dreadful enemy then 1 thrall. 

He, patient but undaunted, where they led him, 

Came to the place, and what was set before him, 

Which without help of eye might be assayed, 

To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still performed 

All with incredible, stupendous force. 

None daring to appear antagonist. 

At length for intermission sake they led him 

Between the pillars ; ho his guide requested 

(For so from such as nearer stood we heard), 

As overtired, to let him lean awhile 

With both his arms on those two massy pillars, 

That to the arched roof gave main support. 

He, unsuspicious, led him ; wMch when SamsoiA 

Felt in Ids arms, with head awhile inclined, 

And eyes fast fixed, he stood, as one who prayed, 

Or some great matter in his mi.nd revolved : 

at last, with head erect, thus cried aloud : 



1 Men or horses fully equipjve L 



4. 



A, — -*4$+ 



-1679. SAMSON AG ONISTES. 4°3 

11 Hitherto, lords, what your commands imposed 
I have performed, as reason was, obeying, 
Not without wonder or delight beheld: 
Now, of my own accord, such other trial 
1 mean to show you of my strength, yet greater , 
As with amaze shall strike all who behold." 
This uttered, straining all his nerves he bowed, 
As with the force of winds and waters pent, 
When mountains tremble, those two massy pillar3 
With horrible convulsion to and fro 
He tugged, he shook, till down they came and dre:* 
The whols roof after them, with burst of thunder. 
Upon the heads of all who sat beneath, 
Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, 
Their choice nobility and flower, wot only 
Of this but each Philistian city rouffJ 
Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. 
Samson, with these immixed, inevitably 
Pulled down the same destruction on himself, 
The vulgar only 'scaped who stood without. 
chorus. 
Oh, dearly bought revenge, yet glorious 1 
living or dying thou hast fulfilled 
The work for which thou wast foretold 
To Israel, and now liest victorious 
Among thy slain, self-killed, 
Not willingly, but tangled .n the fold 
Of diie necessity, whose law in death conjoined 
Thee with thy slaughtered foes in number more 
Than all thy life had slain before. 1 

SEMICIIORU3. 

While their hearts were jocund and sublime. 
Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, 
And fat regorged of bulls and goats, 
Chanting their idol, and preferring 
"Before our living Dread who dwells 
In Silo his bright sanctuary; 
Among them he a spirit of frenzy sent, 
Who hurt their minds, 
And urged them on with mad desire 
To call in haste for their destroyer 



& 



Judges xvi. 30. 
D D 



They, only set on sport and play, 



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404 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS 1680-1715. 

Uuweetingly importuned 

Their own destruction to come speedy upon them,, 

So fond are mortal men, 

Fallen into wrath divine, 

As their own ruin on themselves to invite, 

Insensate left, or to sense reprobate, 

And with blindness internal struck. 

SEMICHORUS. 

But he, though blind of sight, 
Despised and thought extinguished quite, 
With inward eyes illuminated, 
His fiery virtue roused 
?rom under ashes into sudden flame ; 
And as an evening dragon came, 
Assailant on the perched roosts, 
And nests in order ranged 
Of tame villatic fowl ; * but as an eagle 
His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads. 
So virtue given for lost, 
Depressed, and overthrown, as seemed, 
Like that self-begotten bird, 
In the Arabian woods imbost, 2 
That no second knows nor third, 
And lay erewhile a holocaust, 
From out her ashy womb now teemed, 
Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most 
When most unactive deemed, 
And though her body die, her fame survives, 
A secular bird, ages of lives. 

MANOAH. 

Come, coiLe ! no time for lamentation now ; 
Nor much more cause ; Samson hath quit himself 
Like Samson, and heroically hath finished 
A life heroic, on his enemies 
Fully revenged, hath left them years of mourning 
And lamentation to the sons of Caphtor 3 
Through all Philistian bounds ; to Israel 
Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them 



* Barn-door, farm-house fowls. 

2 Concealed, covered. Johnson is my sharp upon our author foz 
the incongruity of this allusion t*» *5xe Phoenix. See KauiLisr, 
No.. 140. 

'< The Philistines. 



♦ 



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1716-1755. SAMSON AGONISTES. 405 

Find courage to lay hold on this occasion; 

To himself and father's house eternal fame , 

And which is best and happiest yet, all this 

With God not parted from him, as was feared, 

But favouring and assisting to the end. 

Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 

Or knock the breast; no weakness, no contempt, 

Dispraise, or blame ; nothing but well and fair, 

And what may quiet us in a death so noble. 

Let us go find the body where it lies 

Soaked in his enemies' blood ; and from the stream, 

With lavers pure, and cleansing herbs, wash off 

The clotted gore. I with what speed the while 

(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay) 

Will send for all my kindred, 1 all my friends, 

To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend 

With silent obsequy and funeral train 

Home to his father's house : there will I build trim 

A monument, and plant it round with shade 

Of laurel ever green, and branching palm, 

With all his trophies hung, and acts enrolled 

In copious legend, or sweet lyric song. 

Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, 

And from his memory inflame their breasts 

To matchless valour, and adventures high; 

'She virgins also shall, on feastful days, 

Visit his tomb with flowers, only bewailing 

His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice, 

From whence captivity and loss of eyes. 

CHORUS. 

All is best, though we oft doubt, 
What the unsearchable dispose 
Of highest wisdom brings about, 
And ever best found in the close. 
Oft he seems to hide his face, 
But unexpectedly returns, 
And to his faithful champion hath in placd 
Bore witness gloriously ; whence Gaza mourn?:. 
And all that band them to resist 
His uncontrollable intent ; 
His servants he, with new acquist 3 

* See Judges svi. 31. 
2 J-ceuisitio" 



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406 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 1756-17^. 

Of true experience from this great event, 
With peace and consolation hath dismissed, 
And calm of mind all passion spent. 1 

1 On the conclusion of this tragedy, Dr. Johnson has the following 
Remarks : — " While Samson is conducted off by the messenger, his 
Jather returns with hopes of success in his solicitation ; upon which 
he confers with the chorus till their dialogue is interrupted, first by i\ 
Bhout, and afterwards by screams of horror and agony. As they stand 
deliberating where they shall be secure, a man who had been present 
at the show enters, and relates how Samson, having prevailed on his 
guide to suffer him to lean against the main pillars of the theatrical 
e iifice, tore down the roof upon the spectators and himself. This is 
undoubtedly a just and regular catastrophe, and the poem therefore 
has a beginning and an end which Aristotle himself could not have 
disapproved ; but it must be allowed to want a middle, since nothing 
passes between the first act and the last, that either hastens or delays 
the death of Samson. The whole drama, if its superfluities were cut 
off, would scarcely fill a single act ; yet this is the tragedy, which 
Jfjnorsnce hw admired, and bigotry ar^lnaded."— -Rambler, No, 139. 



t 



4 



i 



» \J/ < 

407 



flans m Btkml §tm&m&. 



" Baccare frontem' 
Cingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua future 

Virgil, Eoieg. I 



L 

ANNO -ffiTATIS XVIL 
On the Death of a fate Infant 1 dying of a Cough, 

I. 

O fairest flower ! no sooner blown but blasted, 
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly, 
Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted 
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry ; 
For he being amorous on that lovely dye 

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, 
But killed, alas ! and then bewailed his fatal bliss 

For since grim Aquilo, his charioteer, 
By boisterous rape the Athenian damsel 2 got 
He thought it touched his deity full near, 
If likewise he some fair one wedded not, 
Thereby to wipe away the infamous blot 

Of long-nncoupled bed, and childless eld, s 
Which 'mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach wab heid 

m. 
So mounting up in icy-pearled car, 
Through middle empire of the freezing air 
He wandered long, till thee he spied from far ; 

* The daughter, and probably the first child, of the poet's sister. 

' r Orithyia, daughter of Erectheus, king of Athens, was drowJied 
while crossing the Ilissus in a high wind : bene*: the fatle that ivJi* 
v/as carried off by Boreas or Aquilo 8 Old age. 



^ 



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40S MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

There ended was his quest, there ceased his care 
Down he descended from his snow-soft chair, 

But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace 
Unhoused thy virgin soul from her fair biding place,. 1 

IV. 

Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate ; 
For so Apollo, with unweeting hand, 
Whilome did slay 2 his dearly-loved mate, 
Young Hyacinth, born on Eurotas' strand, 
Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land ; 

But then transformed him to a purple flower : 
Alack ! that so to change thee Winter had no power, 

v. 
Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, 
Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, 
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed, 
Hid from the world in a low-delved tomb ; 
Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom ? 

Oh, no ! for something in thy face did shine 
Above mortality, that showed thou wast divine. 

VI. 

Resolve me then, soul most surely blest ! 
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear) ; 
Tell me, bright spirit, where'er thou hoverest, 
Whether above that high first-moving sphere, 
Or in the Elysian fields (if such there were) ; 
Oh, say me true, if thou m ert mortal wight, 
And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight? 

VII. 

Wert thou some star which from the ruined roof 
Of shaked Olympus by mischance didst 3 fall; 
Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof 
Took up, and in fit place did reinstal ? 
Or did of late earth's sons besiege the wall 

Of sheeny Heaven, and thou some goddess fled 
Amongst us here below to hide thy nectared 4 head? 

VIII. 

Or wert thou that just maid 5 who once before 
Forsook the hated earth, oh, tell me sooth ! 

1 The legend of the Erl King will probably suggest itself to n aoj 
leaders as a parallel to this graceful fiction of Milton's. 

2 While playing at quoits. 3 Rather, "did fall," 
A - " Nectared" here seems equivalent to " divine." 
* Aairrea, the goddess of justice. 



T 



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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 409 



And cam'st again to visit us once more ? 
Or wert thou that sweet smiling youth? 1 
Or that crowned matron sage, white-robed Truth ? 

Or any other of that heavenly brood 
Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some good r 

IX. 

Or wert thou of the golden-winged host, 

Who, having clad thyself in human weed, 

To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, 

And after short abode fly back with speed, 

As if to show what creatures Heaven doth breed, 

Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire, 
To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heaven aspire ? 

x. 
f5ut oh ! why didst thou not stay here below 
To bless us with thy Heaven-loved innocence, 
To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe, 
To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence, 
Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence, 2 

To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart? 
But thou canst best perform that office where thou art 

xr. 
Then thcu, the mother of so sweet a child, 
Her false imagined loss cease to lament, 
And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild ; 
Think what a present thou to God hast sent, 
And render him with patience what he lent; 

This if thou do, he will an offspring give, 
That till the world's last end shall make thy name to lite 



II 

ANNO iETATIS X).<. 

[ it a vacation exercise in the College, part Latin, part English 

The Latin speeches ended, the English thns began.! 

Hail, native language ! that by sinews weak 
Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak, 

1 Two syllables are wanting to complete this line. It is proba/,is 
that " Mercy " is the youth implied, and that we should read, 
" Or wert thou Mercy, that," &c. 

Jortin propones " Hebe." 

- About the time when this poem was written {i. e. 1625) a greet 
plagoe raged in London. Milton was at this time only in his 17th year 



^ 



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■♦$* 



A. 



410 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 



And mad'st imperfect words with childish trips, 

Half unpronounced, slide through my infant liptf. 

Driving dumb silence from the portal door, 

Where he had mutely sat two years before : 

Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ash, 

That now I use thee in my latter task : 

$>mall loss it is that thence can come unto thee, 

i know my tongue but little grace can do thee: 

Thou need'st not be ambitious to be first, 

Believe me I have thither packed the worst; 

And, if it happen as I did forecast, 

The daintiest dishes shall be served up last. 

I pray thee then deny me not thy aid 

For this same small neglect that I have madej 

But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure, 

And from thy wardrobe bring thy chieftest treasury 

Not those new-fangled toys and trimming slight 

Which takes our late fantastics with delight, 

But cull those richest robes and gay'st attire 

Which deepest spirits and choicest wits desire: 

I have some naked thoughts that rove about, 

And loudly knock to have their passage out j 

And weary of their place, do only stay 

Till thou hast decked them in thy best array, 

That so they may, without suspect or fears, 

Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears ; 

Yet I had rather, if I were to choose, 

Thy service in some graver subject use, 1 

Such as may make thee search thy coffers round, 

Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound : 

Such were the deep transported mind may soar 

Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door 

Look in, and see each blissful deity 

How he before, the thunderous throne doth lie, 

Listening to what unshorn 2 Apollo sings 

To the touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings 

Immortal nectar to her kingly sire; 

1 It appears, by this address of Milton's to his native language, that 
/veil in these green years he had the ambition to think of writing a* 
epic poem ; and it is worth the curious reader's attention to observe 
how much the Paradise Lost corresponds in its circumstances to th<3 
prophetic wish he now formed. — Thyer. 

2 An epithet peculiar to Apollo among thepoets- 
Ui. 26, Hor. Od. i. 21, 1. 



■•&♦ 



t* 



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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 411 

rhen passing through the scenes of watchful lire, 

And misty regions of wide air next under, 

And hills of snow and lofts of piled thunder, 

May tell at length how green-eyed Neptune raves, 

In Heaven's defiance mustering all his waves ; 

Then sing of secret tilings that came to pass 

When beldame Nature in her cradle was ; 

And last of kings and queens and heroes old, 

Such as the wise Demodocus 1 once told 

In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast 

While sad Ulysses' soul and all the rest 

Are held with his melodious harmony 

In willing chains and sweet captivity. 

But fie, my wandering muse, how thou dost stray ! 

Expectance calls thee now another way; 

Thou know'st it must he now thy only hent 

To keep in compass of thy predicament : 

Then quick ahout thy purposed "business come, 

That to the wesfc I may resign my room. 

[Then Ens is represented as father of the Predicaments, 2 his tejj 
sons, -whereof the eldest stood for Substance with his canon% 
which Ens, thus speaking, explains.] 

Good luck befriend thee, son, for at thy birth 

The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth ; 

Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy 

Come tripping to the room where thou didst Ae, 

And, sweetly singing round ahout thy bed; 

Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head. 

She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldst still 

From eyes of mortals walk invisible : 

Yet there is something that doth force my fear, 

For once it was my dismal hap to hear 

A sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age, 

That far events full wisely could presage, 

And in time's long and dark prospective &lase 

Foresaw what future days should bring to pass ; 

Your son, said she (nor can you it prevent), 

Shall subject be to many an accident. 

1 Alluding to the eighth book of the Odyssey. 

2 Or categories. If the reader does not understand metaphysics, 
he will not be much the wiser for any explanation 1 coul<* <^ive him 
vithin the space of a uota. 



*4h 



♦ — 4* 

412 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

O'er all iris brethren lie shall reign as Mm*., 
Yet every one shall make him underling, 
And those that cannot live from him asunder 
Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under, 
In worth and excellence he shall out-go them, 
Yet, being above them, he shall be below them : 
From others he shall stand in need of nothing 
Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing" 
To find a foe it shall not be his hap, 
And peace shall lull him in her flowery lap 3 
Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door 
Devouring war shall never cease to roar: 
Yea it shall be his natural property 
To harbour those that are at enmity. 
What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not 
Your learned hands, can loose this Gordiau knot ? 

[The next, Quantity and Quality, spake in prose, then 
Relation -was called by his name.] 

Rivers, arise ! ' whether thou be the son 
Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulfy Dun ; 
Or Trent, who, like some earth-born giant, spreads 
His thirty arms along the indented meads ; 
Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath ; 
Or Severn swift, guilty of maidens' death ; 
Or rocky Avon ; or of sedgy Lee ; 
Or coaly Tine ; or ancient hallowed Dee ; 
Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's namfr , 
Oi Medway smooth ; or royal towered Thame. 
[The rest was prose.") 



HI. 

DN THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATTVITV. 
Composed 1629.2 

I. 

This is the mouth, and this the happy morn, 
"Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King, 

1 In invoking these rivers, Milton had his eye particularly upon that 
admirable episode in Spenser of the marriage of the Thames and the 
Medway, where the several rivers are introduced in honour of the cere> 
mony. — Newton. 2 When Milton was twenty-one years old. 



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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 413 

Of wedded maid, and virgin mother born, 
Our great redemption from above did bring ; 
For so the holy sages once did sing, 

That he our deadly forfeit should release, 
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. 

11. 
That glorious form, that light unsufferable, 
And that far-beaming blaze of majesty 
Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table 
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, 
He laid aside ; and here with us to be, 

Forsook the courts of everlasting day, 
And chose with us a darksome house of moiial clay. 

111. 
Say, heavenly muse, shall not thy sacred vein 
Afford a present to the Infant God ? 
Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, 
To welcome Mm to this his new abode, 
Now while the Heaven, by the sun's team untrod, 

Hath took no print of the approaching light, 
And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright? 

IV. 

See how from far upon the eastern road 

The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet : 

Oh, run, prevent them with thy humble ode. 

And lay it lowly at his blessed feet; 

Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, 

And join thy voice unto the angel quire, 
From out his secret altar touched with haJlowed fae l 



Tbk Uitmk. 



1. 

It was the winter wild, 
While the Heaven-born child 

All meanly wrapped in the rude manger lief. 
Nature in awe to him 
Had doffed her gaudy trim, 

With her great Master so to sympathize : 
It was no season then for her 
To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour 



; Alluding r.0 Is. vi. 6, 7. 



^ 



♦A< — ►<&♦ 

414 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

II. 

Only with speeches fair 
She woos the gentle air 

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow, 
And on her naked shame, 
Pollute with sinful blame, 

The saintly veil of maiden white to throw, 
Confounded, that her Maker's eyes 
Should look so near upon her foul deformities* 

in. 
But he, her fears to cease, 
Sent down the meek -eyed Peace ; 

She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding 
Down, through the turning sphere 
His read}'- harbinger, 

With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, 
And waving wide her myrtle wand, 
She strikes an universal peace 1 through sea and land. 

IV. 
No war, or battle's sound, 
Was heard the world around : 
The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; 
The hooked chariot stood, 
Unstained with hostile blood ; 

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng, 
And kings sat still with awful eye, 
As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. 

v. 
But peaceful was the night 
Wherein the Prince of Light 

His reign of peace upon the earth began : 
The winds with wonder whist 2 
Smoothly the waters kissed, 

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean, 
Who now hath quite forgot to rave, 
While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave*. 

VI. 

The stars with deep amaze 
Stand fixed in stedfast gaze, 

Bending one way their precious influence, 
And will not take their flight, 
For all the morning light, 

Or Lucifer that often warned them thence : 
1 " Strikes peace," ft Latinisra, foedua ferire. a Stf?nt< 



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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS, 415 

But in their glimmering orbs did glow, 

Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. 

VII 

&nd though the shady gloom 
Had given day her room, 

The sun himself withheld his wanted speed, 
A.nd hid his head for shame, 
As his inferior flame 

The new enlightened world no more should need ; 
He saw a greater sun appear 
Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could beai 

VIII. 

The shev>herds on the lawn, 
Or e'er the point of dawn, 

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row; 
Full little thought they then, 
That the mighty Pan 

Was kindly come to live with them below; 
Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, 
Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep 

IX. 

When such music sweet 
Their hearts and ears did greet, 

As never was by mortal linger strook, 
Divinely-warbled voice 
Answering the stringed noise, 

As all their souls in blissful rapture took : 
The air, such pleasure loth to lose, 
With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close, 

x. 
Nature that heard such sound, 
Beneath the hollow round 

Of Cynthia's seat, the airy region thrilling, 1 
Now was almost won 
To think her part was done, 

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling; 
She knew such harmony alone 
Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union. 

XI. 

At last surrounds their sight 
A globe of circular light, 

That with long beams the shame-faced night arrayed; 
The helmed cherubim, 

1 Piercing. 



*^ 



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¥ 



416 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

And swtfrded seraphim, 

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed, 
Harping in loud and solemn quire, 
With unexpressive notes to Heaven's new-born Heir 

xir. 
Such music (as 'tis said) 
Before was never made, 

But when of old the sons of morning sung, 1 
While the Creator great 
His constellations set, 

And the well-balanced world on hinges hung, 
And cast the dark foundations deep, 
And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep 

XIII. 

Ring out, ye crystal spheres, 
Once bless our human ears 

(If ye have power to touch our senses so), 
And let your silver chime 
Move in melodious time, 

And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow 
And with your ninefold harmony 
Make up full consort to the angelic symphony 

XIV. 

For if such holy song 
Enwrap our fancy long, 

Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, 
And speckled Vanity 
Will sicken soon and die, 

And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould, 
And Hell itself will pass away, 
And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day, 

xv. 
Yea, Truth and Justice then 
Will down return to men, 

Orbed in a rainbow; and like glories wearing y 
Mercy will sit between, 
Throned in celestial sheen, 

With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering, 
And Heaven, as at some festival, 
Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. 

1 Job xxxviii. 7. 

8 This is the author's own correction. He had originally writtert- 

" The enamelled arras of the rainbow wearing: 
And Mercy sit between." &c. 



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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 417 

xvi. 

Bat wisest Fate says no, 
This must not yet be so, 

The babe lies yet in smiling infancy, 
That on the bitter cross 
Must redeem our loss ; 

So both h ixuself and us to glorify : 
Yet first to those ychained in sleep, 
Tho wakeful trump of doom nvist thunder through the ae&^ 

XV -» 

With such a horrid clang 
As on Mount Sinai rang, 

While the red fire and smouldering clouds out br&kv . 
The aged earth aghast, 
With terror of that blast, 

Shall from the surface to the centre shake ; 
When at the world's last session, 
The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his throne.. 

XVIII. 

And then at last our bliss 
Full and perfect is, 

But now begins; for, from this happy day, 
The old dragon, underground 
In straiter limits bound, 

Not half so far casts his usurped sway, 
And wroth to see his kingdom fail, 
Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail. 

xix. 
The oracles are dumb, 1 
No voice or hideous hum 

Buns through the arched roof in words deceiving 
Apollo from his shrine 
Can no more divine, 

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving 
No nightly trance, or breathed spell, 
Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell 

xx. 
The lonely mountains o'er, 
And the resounding shore, 

A voice of weeping heard 2 and loud lament; 

1 Alluding to the belief entertained by many of the Fathers, that tho 
3Tiicles ceased at tb« coming of Christ. 

9 Alluding to an jffective story told by Plutarch {de defeclu oracui- 
cun), that a voice had been heard, proclaiming that " Tht) G-refit Pan 
vua dead." 



* 



4-iS MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS 

From haunted spring, and dale 
Edged with poplar pale, 

The parting genius is with sighing sent; 
With flower-inwoven tresses torn 
The nymphs hi twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn 

XXI. 

In consecrated earth, 
And on the holy hearth, 

The Lars 1 and Lemures* moan with midnight plaint, 
In urns, and altars round, 
A drear and dying sound 

Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; 
And the chill marble seems to sweat, 
While each peculiar power foregoes his wonted seat. 

XXII. 

Peor and Baalim 
Forsake their temples dim, 

With that twice battered god of Palestine* , 
And mooned Ashtaroth, 
Heaven's queen and mother both, 

Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine ; 
The Lybic H amnion shrinks his horn, 
In vain the Tynan maids their wounded Thammuz mourn. 

XXIII. 

And sullen Moloch fled, 
Hath left in shadows dread 

His burning idol all of blackest hue ; 
In vain with cymbals' ring 
They call the grisly king, 

In dismal dance about the furnace blue, 
The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 
fsis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. 

XXIV, 

Nor is Osiris seen 

In Memphian grove or green. 

Trampling the unshowered grass with lowings loud 
Nor can he be at rest 
Within his sacred chest,' 

Nought but profoundest hell can be his shroud; 

1 Household gods. 

2 Night spirits, ghosts. 

8 Dagon. See Judges xvi., and 1 Sam. v. The names of the heathen 
^ods mentioned in the following lines have already been explained in 
♦he notes on the first hook of Pamdise Lost. 



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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 419 

M vain with timbrellcd anthems dark 

The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipped arfc 

XXV. 

He feels from Juda's land 
The dreaded infant's hand, 

The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn , 
iSTor all the gods beside, 
Longer dare abide, 

Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine ' 
Our Babe to show his Godhead true, 
Can in his swaddling bands control the damned cref* 

XXVI. 

80 when the sun in bed, 
Curtained with cloudy red, 

Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, 
The flocking shadows pale 
Troop to the infernal jail, 

Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave, 
And the yellow-skirted fays 
Fly after the night-steeds, leaving then- moon-loved rnazt 

XXVI!. 

But see the virgin blest 
Hath laid her Babe to rest, 

Time is our tedious song should here have ending : 
Heaven's youngest teemed star 
Hatli fixed her polished car, 

Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending: 
And all about the courtly stable 
Bright-harnessed l angels sit in order serviceable, 



IV 

THE PASSION. 3 

I- 

Ereweiile of music, and ethereal mirth, 
Wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring 
And joyous news of heavenly Infant's birth, 
My muse with angels did divide to sing; 
But headlong joy is ever on the wing, 

1 Equipped. 

3 Tt appears from the beginning of tliis poem, that it wis composed 
fcfter, and probably soon after, the ode on the Nativity. 

BE 

^ _ ^. 



^ _ —& 

*2o MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

In winter solstice like the shortened light. 
Soon swallowed up in dark and long out-living night 

ii. 
For now to sorrow must I tune my song, 
And set my harp to notes of saddest woe, 
Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long, 
Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so 
Which he for us did freely undergo : 

Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight 
Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wiphU 

in. 
He, sovran Priest, stooping his regal head, 
That dropped with odorous oil down his fair eyes, 
Poor fleshly tabernacle entered, 
His starry front low-ioofed beneath the skies : 
Oh, what a mask was there, what a disguise ! 

Yet more ; the stroke of death he must abide, 
Then lies him meekly down fast by his brethren's side 

IV 

These latest scenes confine my roving verse 
To this horizon is my Phoebus bound ; 
His godlike acts, and his temptations fierce, 
And former sufferings other where are found ; 
Loud o'er the rest Cremona's trump 1 doth sound \ 

Me softer airs befit, and softer strings 
Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things. 

T. 
Befriend me night, best patroness of grief, 
Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw, 
And work my flattered fancy to belief, 
That Heaven and Earth are coloured with my woe ; 
My sorrows are too dark for day to know : 

The leaves should all be black whereon I write, 
And letters, where my tears have washed, a wannish white 

VI. 

See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels, 
That whirled the prophet up at Chebar 2 flood. 
My spirit some transporting cherub feels, 
To bear me where the towers of Salem stood, 
Once glorious towers, now sunk in guiltless blood ; 



1 i.e. t!»e poetry of Hieronymus Vida, of Cremona, who wrote t 
"Chrlstlad." 

. 2 As Ezekiel saw the vision of the four wheels and of the glory of 
God at the river Chebar. 



$■ 



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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 421 

There doth my soul in holy vision sit 
In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit 

VII. 

Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock 
That was the casket of Heaven's richest store, 
And here though grief rny feeble hands up lock, 
Yet on the softened quarry would I score 
My plaining verse as lively as before -, 

For sure so well instructed are rny tears, 
That they would fitly fall in ordered characters. 

VIII. 

Or should I thence, hurried on viewless wing, 
Take up a weeping on the mountains wild, 
The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring 
Would soon unbosom all their echoes mild, 
And I (for grief is easily beguiled) 

Might think the infection of my sorrows loud 
Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud 

[This subject the author finding to be above the years he had, 
when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with what was begun. 
left it unfinished.] 



ON TIME.* 

Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race ; 

Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours, 

Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace 

And glut thyself with what thy womb devour? 

Which is no more than what is false and vail 

And merely mortal dross ; 

So little is our loss, 

So little is thy gain. 

For when as each thing bad thou Hast entombed, 

And last of all thy greedy self consumed, 

Then long eternity shall greet our bliss 

With an individual kiss ; 

And joy shall overtake us as a flood, 

When every thing that is sincerely good 

1 To this copy of verses the poet had append''.! the direction, "To 
^o set on a clock-c2"?." 

^ ^* 



• 



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423 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



And perfectly divine, 

With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine 
About the supreme throne 
Df him, to whose happy-making sight 1 alone 
iVhen once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb, 
Then all this earthy grossness quit, 
Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit, 
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, OTimt 



upon The cut cumui sign. 

Ye flaming powers, and winged warriors bright, 
That erst with music, and triumphant song, 
First heard by happy watchful shepherds' ear, 
So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along 
Through the soft silence of the listening night, 
Now mourn ; and if sad share with us to bear 
Your fiery essence can distil no tear, 
Burn in your sighs, and borrow 
Seas wept from our deep sorrow : 
He who with all Heaven's heraldry whilere 
Entered the world, now bleeds to give us eap°; 
Alas ! how soon our sin 
Sore doth begin 

His infancy to seize ! 

more exceeding love, or law more just? 
Just law, indeed, but more exceeding love J 
For we by rightful doom remediless 

Were lost in death, till he that dwelt above, 

High throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust 

Emptied his glory, 3 even to nakedness; 

And that great covenant which we still transgress 

Entirely satisfied, 

And the full wrath beside 

Of vengeful justice bore for our excess. 

1 The same precisely as " beatific vision." 

2 From the Greek of Phillip, ii. 7: lavrbv Utvufft, "he made him- 
elf of no reputation." 

♦4* ■ — — ! >4* 



1 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 423 

And seals obedience first with wounding smart 
This day ; but oh, ere long, 
Huge pangs and strong 

Will pierce more near his heart 



VII. 

4T A SOLEMN MUSIC. 

Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's jV-y, 

Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, 

Wed your divine sounds, and mixed power employ. 

Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce, 

And to our high-raised fantasy present 

That undisturbed song of pure concent, 1 

Aye sung before the sapphire-coloured throne 

To him that sits thereon, 

With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee, 

Where the bright seraphim in burning row 

Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow, 

And the cherubic host in thousand quires 

Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, 

With those just spirits that wear victorious pabus, 

Hymns devout and holy psalms 

Singing everlastingly; 

That we on earth with undiscording voice 

May rightly answer that melodious noise t 

As once we did, till disproportion ed sin 

Jarred against nature's chime, and with harsh dik 

Broke the fair music that all creatures made 

To their great Lord, whose love their motion swayed 

In perfect diapason, 2 whilst they stood 

In first obedience, and their state of gool 

Oh, may we soon again renew that song, 

Anl keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long 

To his celestial consort us unite, 

To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light 

1 This is preferable to the other reading, i! .content ' 
* Compare Plin. Nat, Hst. ii. 20. 



♦ 



1 ■ - 



^ 



424 ™ILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

VIII. 

A.N EPITAPH ON THE MAECHI0NES3 OF WINCHESTER, 

This rich marble doth inter 
The honoured wife of Winchester, 
A viscount's daughter, an carl's heir. 
Besides what her virtues fair 
Added to her noble birth, 
More than she could own from earth- 
Summers three times eight, save one» 
She had told; alas! too soon, 
After so short time of breath, 
To house with darkness, and with death. 
Yet had the number of her days 
Been as complete ps was her praise, 
Nature and fate had had no strife 
In giving limit to her life. 
Her high birth, and her graces sweet, 
Quickly found a lover meet ; 
The virgin quire for her request 
The god that sits at marriage feast; 
He at their invoking came, 
But with a scarce well-lighted name , 
And in his garland as he stood 
Ye might discern a cypress bud. 3 
Once had the early matrons run 
To greet her of a lovely son, 
And now with second hope she goes, 
And calls Lucina to her throes ; 
But whether by mischance or blame 
Atropos for Lucina 3 came, 
And with remorseless cruelty 
Spoiled at once both fruit and tree* : 
The hapless babe before his birth 
Had burial, yet not laid in earth, 
And the languished mother's womb 
Was not long a living tomb. 

1 Jane, daughter of Thomas Lord Viscount Savage, of Kojksavag^ 
Chester. She died in childbed of a second son, in the twenty-third 
year of her age. 

2 Symbolical of a funeral. 

8 L e, the Fates instead of the goddess who presides over child-birth. 



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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 425 

So have I seen some tender slip, 

Saved with care from winter's nip. 

The pride of her carnation train, 

Plucked up by some unheedy swain 

Who only thought to crop the flower 

New shot up from vernal shower , 

But the fair blossom hangs the head 

Side-ways, as on a dying bci, 

And those pearls of dew she wears, 

Prove to be presaging tears, 

Which the sad morn had let fall 

On her hastening funeral. 

Gentle lady, may thy grave 

Peace and quiet ever have • 

After this, thy travel sore, 

Sweet rest seize thee evermore, 

That to give the world increase, 

Shortened hast thy own life's lease. 

Here, besides the sorrowing 

That thy noble house doth bring, 

Here be tears of perfect moan 

Wept for thee in Helicon, 

And some flowers, and some bays, 

For thy hearse, to strew the ways, 

Sent thee from the banks of Came, 

Devoted to thy virtuous name ; 

Whilst thou, bright saint, high sitt'st in glory 9 

Next her much like to thee in story, 

ITiat fair Syrian shepherdess, 1 

Who, after years of barrenness, 

The highly favoured Joseph bore 

To him that served for her before, 

And at her next birth, much like thee, 

Through pangs fled to felicity, 

Far within the bosom bright 

Of blazing Majesty and Light: 

There with thee, new welcome saint, 

Like fortunes may her soul acquaint, 

With thee there clad in radiant sheen, 

No marchioness, but now a queen. 

1 ttaehel. See Gen. xxxv. 18. 



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426 MIL7 ON 'S POETICAL WORKS. 

IX 

SONG ON MAY MORNING. 

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, 
Tlomes dancing from the east, and leads with her 
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws 1 
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose 
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire 
Mirth and youth and warm desire ; 
Woods and groves are of thy dressing, 
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. 
Thus we salute thee with our early song, 
And welcome thee, and wish thee long. 



X 

ON SHAKSPEARE, 1630.2 

What needs my Shakspeare for his honoured bones 

The labour of an age in piled stones? 

Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid 

Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? 

Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, 

What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? 

Thou in our wonder and astonishment 

Hast built thyself a livelong monument. 

For whilst to the shame of flow-endeavouring art 

Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart 

Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book 

Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ; 

Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving, 

Dost make us marble with too much conceiving ; 

And so sepulchred in such pomp dost lie, 

That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die. 

1 Shakspeare, Richard IT. act v. sc. 4 — 

" Who are the violets now 
That strow the green lap of the new-come spring." 

* In the twenty-second year of the poet's age. 



♦<>* 



♦4^1 ^ 

POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 427 

XI. 

ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER, 

WHO wlCKENED IN THE TIME O? HIS VACANCY, BEING FORBID TP 
GO TO LONDON, BY REASON OF THE PLAGUE. 

Here lies old Hobson; 1 Death hath broke his girt 

And here, alas ! hath laid him in the dirt ; 

Or else the ways being foul, twenty to on3, 

He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 

Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, 

Death was half glad when he had got him down ; 

For he had, any time this ten years full, 

Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and the Bull 

And sorely Death could never have prevailed, 

Had not his weekly course of carriage failed; 

But lately finding him so long at home, 

And thinking now his journey's end was come, 

And that he had ta'en up his latest inn, 

In the kind office of a chamberlin 

Showed him his room where he must lodge that night. 

Pulled off Ms boots, and took away the light: 

If any ask for him, it shall be said, 

Hobson has supped, and 's newly gone to bed. 



XII. 

ANOTHER ON THE SAME. 

Here lieth one, who did mc^t truly prove 
That he could never die while he could move ; 
So hung his destiny, never to rot 
While he might still jog on and keep his trot ; 

1 Mr. Thomas Hobson was a carrier, and the first man in this 
island who let ont hackney horses. He lived in Cambridge, and, 
observing tbat the scholars rid hard, his manner was to keep a large 
stable of horses, with boots, bridles, and whips, to furnish the gentle- 
men at once, without going from college to college to borrow, as they 
have done since the death of this worthy man. I say, Mr. Hobson 
kept a stable of forty good cattle, always ready and fit for travel 



v- 



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4 



428 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Made of sphere-metal, never to decay 

Until his resolution was at stay. 

Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime 

Gainst old truth) motion numbered out his time 

And like an engine moved with wheel and weight, 

His principles being ceased, he ended straight. 

Rest that gives all men life, gave him his death, 

And too much breathing put him out of breath : 

Nor were it contradiction to affirm 

Too long vacation hastened on his term 

Merely to drive the time away he sickened, 

Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quickened , 

" Nay," quoth he, on his swooning bed out- stretched } 

t,] If I mayn't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetched, 

But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers, 

For one carrier put down to make six bearers." 

Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right, 

He died for heaviness that his cart went light : 

His leisure told him that his time was come, 

And lack of load made his life burdensome, 

That even to his last breath (there be that say't) 

As he were pressed to death, he cried " More weight ;" 

But had his doings lasted as they were, 

He had been an immortal carrier. 

Obedient to the moon he spent his date 

In course reciprocal, and had his fate 

Linked to the mutual flowing of the seas, 

Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase : 

His letters are delivered all and gone, 

Only remains this superscription. 

ling ; but when a man. came for a horse, he was led into the stable, 
where there was great choice, but he obliged him to take the horse 
which stood next to the stable-door ; so that every customer was alike 
well served, according to his channe, and every horse ridden with the 
same justice ; from whence it became a proverb, when what ought to 
be your choice was forced upon you. to say " Hobson's choice." This 
memorable man stands drawn in fresco at an inn (which he used) in 
Bishopsgate-street, with an hundred pound bag under his arm, wit> 
this inscription upon the said bag, " The fruitful toother of e 
hundred more."— Spectator, No. 509: 



*4$* ^* 



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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 



429 



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XHL 



L'ALLEGKO.i 



Hence loathed Melancholy, 

Of Cerherus 2 and blackest Midnight born, 
in Stygian cave forlorn, 

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy, 
Find out some uncouth cell, 

Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings 
And the night ra\en sings; 

There under ebon shades, and low-browed rocks, 
As ragged as thy locks, 

In dark Cimmerian 3 desert ever dwell 
But come thou goddess fair and free, 
In Heaven ycleped Euphrosyne, 
And by men, heart-easing Mirth, 
Whom lovely Venus at a birth 4 
With two sister graces more 
To ivy-crowned Bacchu3 boi 
Or whether (as some sages sing)* 
The frolic wind that breathes the spring, 
Zephyr with Aurora playing, 

1 This and the following poem are exquisitely beautiful in them- 
selves, but appear much more beautiful when they are considered as 
they were written, in contrast with each other. There is a great 
variety of pleasing images in each of them ; and it is remarkable that 
the poet represents several of the same objects as exciting both mirth 
and melancholy, and affecting us differently according to the different 
dispositions and affections of the soul. This is nature and experience. 
He derives the title of both poems from the Italian, which language 
was then principally in vogue. L'Allegro is the cheerful, merry man ; 
and, in this poem, he describes the course of mirth, in the country 
t,nd in the city, from morning till noon, and from noon till night : and 
possibly he might have this in his thoughts, when he said afterwards 
in his " Areopagitica," " There be delights, there be recreations and 
jolly pastimes that will fetch the day about from sun to sun, and rock 
the tedious year as in a delightful dream." Vol. i. p. 154. — Newton. 

2 Erebus, the conjecture of Upton and Newton, is more agreeabh 
to mythology. 

3 The Cimmerians lived in caves, and never saw the light of tb« 
sun. See Homer, Od. xi. 14 ; Tibull. iv. i. 65. 

4 The more ancient opinion makes the graces spring from Jupite? 
and Eurynome. 

5 This is merely Milton's fiction, as no such account is given ela» 
•There. 



4r 



430 MIL TON 'S POE TICAL WORKS. 

As he met her once a maying, 

There on beds of violets blue, 

And fresh-blown roses washed in dew, 

Filled her with thee a daughter fair, 

So buxom, blithe, and debonair. 

Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 

Jest and youthful jollity, 

Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, 

Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, 

Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 

And love to live in dimple sleek ; 

Sport that wrinkled care derides, 

And laughter holding both his sides. 

Come, and trip it as you go 

On the light fantastic toe, 

And in thy right hand lead with thee s 

The mountain nymph, 1 sweet Liberty ; 

And if I give thee honour due, 

Mirth, admit me of thy crew, 

To live with her, and live with thee, 

In unreproved pleasures free ; 

To hear the lark begin his flight, 

And singing startle the dull night, 

From his watch-tower in the skies, 

Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; 

Then to come in spite of sorrow, 

And at my window bid good-morrow, 

Through the sweet-briar, or the vine, 

Or the twisted eglantine : 

While the cock with lively din 

Scatters the rear of darkness thin, 

And to the stack, or the barn-door, 

Stoutly struts his dames before : 

Oft listening how the hounds and horn 

Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, 

From the side of some hoar hill, 

Through the high wood echoing shrill j 

Some time walking not unseen 

By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, 

Right against the eastern gate, 

Where the great sun begins his state, 

1 So called, probably because those nations which dwell on 
mountains have preserved their liberty longest and most peree- 
feringly. 



<> 



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a. /TV. 



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2 OEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS- 431 

Robed in flames and amber light, 

The clouds in thousand liveries dighi, 1 

While the ploughman near at hand 

Whistles o'er the furrowed land, 

And the milkmaid smgeth blithe, 

And the mower whets his scythe, 

And every shepherd tells his tale 

Under the hawthorn in the dale. 

Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures 

Whilst the laudskip round it measures, 

Russet lawns, and fallows gray, 

Where the nibbling flocks do stray, 2 

Mountains on whose barren breast 

The labouring clouds do often rest, 

Meadows trim with daisies pied, 

Shallow brooks, and rivers wide 

Towers and battlements it sees 

Bosomed high in tufted trees, 

Where perhaps some beauty lies, 

The Cynosure 3 of neighbouring eyes. 

Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes, 

From betwixt two aged oaks, 

Where Corydon and Thyrsis met, 

Are at their- savoury dinner set 

Of herbs, and other country messes, 

Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; 

And then in haste her bower she leaves, 

With Thestylis to bind the sheaves ; 

Or if the earlier season lead 

To the tanned haycock in the mead. 

Sometimes with secure delight 

The upland hamlets will invite, 

When the merry bells ring round, 

And the jocund rebecks 4 sound 

To many a youth, and many a maid, 

Dancing in the chequered shade ; 

And young and old come forth to play 

On a sunshine holy-day, 

TiL the livelong daylight fail ; 

Then ,0 the spicy nut-brown ale, 

1 Dressed, adorned. 

2 Feed at large. 

3 The constellation of Ursa Minor, or the Little Bete?. 

4 A three-stringed fiddle. 






+&• 



432 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

With stories 1 told of many a feat, 

rfow fairy Mab the junkets eat, 

She was pinched, and pulled, she said, 

And he by friars' lanthorn led, 

Tells how the drudging goblin sweat, 

To earn his cream bowl duly set, 2 

When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, 

His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn, 

That ten day-labourers could not end ; 

Then lies him down the lubbar fiend, 

And stretched out all the chimney's length. 

Basks at the fire his hairy strength, 

And crop-full out of doors he flings, 

Ere the first cock his matin rings. 

Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 

By whispering winds soon lulled asleep 

Towered cities please us then, 

And the busy hum of men, 

Where throngs of knights and barons boli 

In weeds of peace high riumphs hold, 

With store of ladies, wh6se bright eyes 

Bain influence, and judge the prize 

Of wit, or arms, while both contend 

To win her grace, whom all commend. 

There let Hymen oft appear 

In saffron robe, with taper clear, 

And pomp, and feast, and revelry, 

With mask, and antique pageantry ; 

Such sights as youthful poets dream 

On summer eves by haunted stream, 

Then to the well-trod stage anon, 

If Jonson's learned sock be on, 

Or sweetest Shakspeare, fancy's child, 

Warble his native wood-notes wild 



1 These stories, it is almost unnecessary to say, formed a favourii* 
amusement of the country people. Shakspeare has introduced several 
such folk-lore legends into his " Midsummer Night's Dream." 

2 Eeginald Scott gives a brief account of this imaginary spirit much 
in the same manner with this of our author. " Your grand-dames, 
maids, were wont to set a bowl of milk for him, for his pains in grind- 
ing of malt or mustard, and sweeping the house at midnight — his 
white bread and milk was his standing fee." Discovery of Witch 
craft; London: 4 to. p. 66, Peek. See Keightley's Fairy Mythology 
Art. Kobold. 



..^ 



i> 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 433 

And ever against eating cares, 

Lap me in soft Lydian 1 airs, 

Married to immortal Terse, 

Such as the meeting soul may pierce 

In notes, with many a winding bout 

Of linked sweetness long drawn out, 

With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, 

The melting voice through mazes running, 

Untwisting all the chains that tie 

The hidden soul of harmony ; 

That Orpheus' self may heave his head 

From golden slumber on a bed 

Of heaped Elysian flowers, and hear 

Such strains as would have won the ear 

Of Pluto, to have quite set free 

His half regained Eurydice. 

These delights, if thou canst give, 

Mirth, with thee I mean to live. 2 



XIV 
IL PENSEROSO.s 

Hence, vain deluding joys, 

The brood of folly without father bred ! 
How little you bested, 

Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys ! 
Dwell in some idle brain, 

And fancies fond with gavly shapes possess, 
As thick and numberless 

As the gay motes that people the sunbeams/ 

1 The Lydian measure was very soft and sweet. So Dryden, 0<2s 
VL St. Cecilia's Day : — 

" Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, 
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures." 

2 A charming adaptation from Shakspeare's " Nymph's Reply to th< 
passionate Shepherd " : — 

" If these delights thy mind may move, 
Then live with me, and he my love." 

3 See note at the beginning of the last poem. The model of a 
great portion of this poem is a song in praise of melancholy, La 
Fletcher's Comedy of " The Nice Valour, or Passionate Madman*." 

* Cliaucer's Wife of Bath's Tale, ver. 868. 

4* ^ 



4* 



-*<|m 



434 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Or likest hovering dreams, 

The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. 
But hail thou goddess, sage and holy, 
Hail, divinest Melancholy, 
Whose saintly visage is too bright 
To hit the sense of human sight, 
And therefore to our weaker view, 
O'erlaid with black, staid wisdoms hue; 
Black, but such as in esteem 
Prince Memnon's 1 sister might beseem, 
Or that starred Ethiop queen 2 that strove 
To set her beauty's praise above 
The sea-rymphs, and their powers offended: 
Yet thou art higher far descended ; 
Thee, bn ght-haired Vesta long of yore 
To solitary Saturn 3 bore ; 
His daughter she (in Saturn's reign, 
Sucn mixture was not held a stain). 
Oft in glimmering bowers and glades 
He met her, and in secret shades 
Of woody Ida's inmost grove, 
While yet there was no fear of Jove. 
Come, pensive nun, devout and pure, 
Sober, stedfast, and demure, 
All in a robe of darkest grain, 
Flowing with majestic train, 
And sable stole of Cyprus lawn, 
Over thy decent shoulders drawn. 
Come, but keep thy wonted state, 
With even step, and musing gait, 
And looks commercing with the skies, 
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes : 
There, held in holy passion still, 
Forget thyself to marble, till 






1 Son of Tithonus, by Aurora, and king of Ethiopia. He was slaia 
by Achilles when coming to the assistance of Priam, at the siege of 
Troy. 

2 Cassiopeia, wife of Cepheus, who, having dared to compare herself 
with the Nereids for beauty, was by them exposed to be devoured by a 
monster. Perseus, however, slew the creature, and obtained a place 
for Cassiopeia among the constellations. 

3 The planet Saturn was supposed to exert much influence Of<M 
persons of a gloomy and thoughtful temperament. 



+fy+ 



^ 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 435 

With a sad leaden 1 downward cast 

Thou fix them on the earth as fast : 

And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, 

Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, 

And hear the Muses in a ring 

Aye round about Jove's altar sing ; 

And add to these retired Leisure, 

That in trim gardens takes his pleasure •, 

But first, and chiefest, with thee bring 

Him that yon soars on golden wing, 

Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, 

The cherub Contemplation; 

And the mute Silence hist along, 

'Less Philomel will deign a song, 

In her sweetest, saddest plight, 

Smoothing the rugged brow of night, 

While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke, 

Gently o'er the accustomed oak ; 

Sweet bird that shunn'st the noise of folly 

Most musical, most melancholy ! 

Thee, chantress, oft the woods among 

I woo to hear thy even-song ; 

And missing thee, I wa]k unseen 

On the dry smooth -shaven green, 

To behold the wandering moon, 

Riding near her highest noon, 

Like one that had been led astray 

Through the Heaven's wide pathless way, 

And oft, as if her head she bowed, 

Stooping through a fleecy cloud. 

Oft on a plat of rising ground, 

I hear the far-off curfew sound, 

Over some wide-watered shore, 

Swinging slow with sullen roar ; 

Or if the ah' will not permit, 

Some still removed place will fit, 

Where glowing embers through the room 

Teach light to counterfeit a gloom ; 

Far from all resort of mirth, 

Save the cricket on the hearth, 

Or the bellman's drowsy charm, 

To bless the doors from nightly harm : 

'eaden contemplation," in Sli&kspeare's Love's J "bonr IiCfrt 



4$* 






4- 



436 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Or let my lamp at midnight hour, 
Be seen in some high lonely tower, 
Where I may oft outwatch the Bear, 1 
With thrice great Hermes, 2 or unspher© 
The spirit of Plato to unfold 
What worlds, or what vast regions hold 
The immortal mind that hath forsook 
Her mansion in this fleshly nook : 
And of those demons that are found 
In fire, air, flood, or under ground, 3 
Whose power hath a true consent 
With planet or with element. 
Sometime let gorgeous tragedy 
In sceptred pall 4 come sweeping by, 
Presenting 5 Thebes, or Pelops' line, 

)t the tale of Troy divine ; 

)r what (though rare) of later age 
Ennobled hath the buskined stage. 
But oh, sad virgin, that thy power 
Might raise Musaeus from his bower ! 
Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing 
' Such notes as warbled to the string 
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, 
And made Hell grant what love did seek. 
Or call up him that left half told 
The story of Cambuscan 6 bold, 
Of Camball, and of Algarsife, 
And who had Canacc to wife, 
That owned the virtuous ring and glass, 
And of the wondrous horse of brass, 
On which the Tartar king did ride ; 
And if aught else great bards beside 
In sage and rolemn tunes have sung, 
Of tumeys f id of trophies hung, 
Of forests £ ,d enchantments drear, 
Where more is meant than meets the ear. 

3 A constellation which never set3. Virg. Georg. i. 24G. 
3 t. e. Mercurius Trwmegistus. 

3 Plato helieved that every part of this universe was peopled with 
spirits, exercising medial functions between gods and men. 

4 The long robe worn by distinguished persons in tragedy. CL Hor. 
kit. poet. 278. 

5 i,\e. representing. The subjects here enumerated were favourite 
lopics with the Greek tragedians. 

» See Chausec'* 1 Squire's Tale, and Spenser's Faerie Queen, iv. 2318, 



<h 



*^» 



*&*- 



ih 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 437 

Thus night oft see me in thy pale career, 

Till civil-suited morn 1 appear, 

Not trickt and frounct 2 as she was wont 

With the Attic 3 ooy to hunt, 

But kerchiefed in a comely cloud, 

Wliile rocking winds are piping loud, 

Or ushered with a shower still, 

When thr gust hath blown his fill, 

Ending on the rustling leaves. 

With minute drops from off the eaves. 

And w) en the sun begins to fling 

His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring 

To arched walks of twilight groves, 

And shadows brown, tb at Sylvan loves, 

Of pine, or monumental oak, 

Whore the rude axe with heaved stroke 

Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, 

Or fright them from their hallowed haunt 

There in close covert by some brook, 

Where no profaner eye may look, 

Hide me from day's garish 4 eye, 

While the bee with honeyed thigh, 

That at her flowery work doth sing, 

And the waters murmuring, 

With such consort as they keep, 

Entice the dewy-feathered sleep; 

And let some strange mysterious dream 

Wave at his wings in airy stream 

Of lively portraiture displayed, 

Softly on my eyelids laid. 

And as I wake, sweet music breathe 

Above, about, or underneath, 

Sent by some spirit to mortals good, 

Or the unseen genius of the wood. 

But let my due feet never fail 

To walk the studious cloister's pale, 

1 Cf. Romeo and Juliet, iii. 4: — 

"Coma civil night, 
Thou sober suited matron, all in black." 

2 Frizzled, crisped, curled. 

3 Ceplialus, with whom Aurora fell in love while hs was banting 
Ovid. Met. vii. 701. 

4 Bright, gaudy. 



4 



tjr 



438 if/Z 7 'ON'S POE TIC A L WORKS, 

And love the high embowed roof, 

With antic l pillars massy proof, 

And storied windows richly dight, 

Casting a dim religious light. 

There let the pealing organ blow, 3 . 

To the full-voiced quire below, 

In service high, and anthems clear, 

As may with sweetness, through mine ear, 

Dissolve me into ecstasies, 

Arid bring all Heaven before mine eyes. 

And may at last my weary age 

Find out the peaceful hermitage, 

The hairy gown and mossy cell, 

Where I may sit and rightly spell 

Of every star that Heaven doth shew, 

And every herb that sips the dew ; 

Till old experience do attain 

To something like prophetic strain. 

These pleasures, Melancholy, give, 

And I with thee will choose to live. 



XV. 

ARC .DES. 



[1'art of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of 
Derby, at Harefield, 3 by some noble persons of her family, who 
appear- on the scene in pastoral habit, moving toward the seat 
of state, with this song.] 

Song I. 

Look, nymphs, and shepherds look, 
What sudden blaze of majesty 
Is that which we from hence descry, 
Too divine to be mistook : 

1 Ancient. 

2 This shows that Milton, however mistaken in other respects, did 
Oct run into the enthusiastic madness of that fanatic age against 
church music. — Thyer. 

3 Alice, daughter of Sir John Spenser, of Althorp, in Northampton* 
<?hire. This poem was probably written during Miiten's residence in 
the neighbourhood of Uxbridge. See NewUn, 



4. 



U'- . 



"*vy* 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASION'S, 459 

This, tins is she 
To whom our views and wishes bend 
Here our solemn search hath end. 

Fame, that her high worth to raise, 
Seemed erst so lavish and profuse, 
We may justly now accuse 
Of detraction from her praise; 

Less than half we find expressed, 

Envy bid conceal the rest. 

Mark what radiant state sb« spreads, 
in circle round her shining throne, 
Shooting her beams like silver threads ; 
This, this is she alone, 

Sitting like a goddess bright, 

In the centre of her light. 

Might she the wise Latona be, 
Or the towered Cybele, 
Mother of a hundred gods ? 
Juno dares not give her odds ; 

Who had thought this clime had held 

A deity so unparalleled ? 



[As they come forward, the Genius of the wood appeal's, and turning 
towards them, speaks.] 

GENIUS. 

Stay, gentle swains, for though in this disguise, 
I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes ; 
Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung 
Of that renowned flood, so often sung, 
Divine Alpheus, 1 who by secret sluice 
Stole tinder seas to meet his Are th use ; 
And ye, the breathing roses of the wood, 
Fair silver-buskined nymphs as great and goui 
I know this quest of yours, and free intent, 

1 A famocs river of Arcadia that, sinking under ground, passes 
through the fcea without mixing his stream with the salt waters, and 
rises at las* ^th tru* feuntain Arethus*, 5«ar Syracuse, in Sietiy.— 
K zwton. 

♦^ —4* 



*iy- 



«40 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Was all in honour and devotion meant 

To the groat mistress of yon princely shrine, 

Whom with low reverence I adore as mine, 

And with all helpful service will comply 

To further this night's glad solemnity , 

^nd lead ye where ye may more near behold 

What shallow-searching fame hath left untold ; 

Which I full oft amidst these shades alone 

Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon : 

.For know by lot from Jove I am the power 

Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower, 

To nurse -the saplings tall, and curl the grove 

With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove. 

And all my plants I save from nightly ill 

Of noisome winds, and blasting vapours chill : 

And from the boughs brush off the evil dew, 

And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blue, 

Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites, 

Or hurtful worm with cankered venom bites. 

When evening gray doth rise, I fetch my round 

Over the mount, and all this hallowed ground, 

And early, ere the odorous breath of morn 

Awakes the slumbering leaves, or tasselled horn 1 

Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about, 

Number my ranks, and visit every sprout 

Withi puissant words, and murmurs made to bless 

But else in deep of night, when drowsiness 

Hath locked up mortal sense, then listen I 

To the celestial sirens' harmony, 

That sit upon the nine enfolded spheres,' 

And sing to those that hold the vital shears, 

And turn the adamantine spindle round, 

On which the fate of gods and men is wound 

Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie, 

To lull the daughters of Necessity, 

And keep unsteady Nature to her law, 

bid the low world in measured motion draw 

1 Spenser, F. Q. i. 8, 3 t— 

" An horn of bugle small, 
Which hung adown his side in twisted gold, 
And tassels gay." tf&tito*- 

See Cicero's Somnium Scipionis, § 4. 

♦^ — *qu 



♦A, : — *&♦ 

POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS, H i 

After the heavenly tune, 1 which none can he&2 
Of human mould with gross unpurged ear; 
And yet such music worthiest were to blaze 
The peerless highth of her immortal praise, 
Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit, 
If my inferior hand or voice could hit 
Inimitable sounds ; yet as we go, 
Whate'er the skill of lesser gods can show, 
I will assay, her worth to celebrate, 
And so attend ye toward her glittering state ; 
\\ here ye may all, that are of noble stem, 
Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture's hem. 

Song II. 

O'er the smooth enamelled green, 
Where no print of step hath been, 

Follow me, as I sing, 

And touch the warbled string, 
Under the shady roof 
Of branching elm star-proof 

Follow me, 
I will bring you where she sits, 
Jlad in splendour as befits 

Her deity. 
Such a rural queen 
All Arcadia hath not seen. 

Song III. 

Nymphs and shepherds dance no more 

By sandy Ladon's 2 lilied banks, 
On old Lycaeus or Cyllene hoar 

Trip no more in twilight ranks. 
Though Erymanth your loss deplore, 

A better soil shall give ye thanks. 

! Cf , Merchant of Venice, t.Is— 

" There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'ei 
But in his motion like an angel sings, 
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims ; 
Such harmony is in immortal sounds ! 
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
Doth grossly close us in, we cannot hear it/ Ntit>t?f 

* The most beautiful river of Arcadia. 



»/t)i 



44* MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

From the stony Msenalus 

Bring your flocks, and live with UB ; 

Here ye shall have greater graoe, 

To serve the lady of this place ; 

Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were, 

Yet Syrinx well might wait on her-. 

Such a rural queen 

All Arcadia hath not 



K>* 



-*$ 



443 



Cento. 



A MA8E, PRESENTED AT LUDLOW CASTLE, 1&U, B RFC RE TBJ» 
EARL OF BL1DGEWATER, THEN PRESIDENT OF WALES. 



The Mask was presented in 1634, and consequently in the twenty* 
sixth year of our author's age. In the title-page of the first edition, 
printed in 1037, it is said that it was presented on Michaelmas night, 
.lid there was this motto : — 

" Eheu quid volui misero mini i floribus austram 
Pej-ditus." 

In this edition, and in that of Milton's poems in 164o, there was 
prefixed to the Mask the following dedication :— 

To the Right Honourable Loud John Viscount Bragtcli, S^a 
and Heir Apparent to the Earl of Bredgewater, &c 

My Lord, — This poem, which received its first occasion 
d£ birth from yourself and others of your noble family, and 
fciuch honour from your own person in the perform ance, 
£ow returns again to make a final dedication of itself to 
you. Although not openly acknowledged by the author, 
yet it is a legitimate offspring, so lovely, and so much 
desired, that the often copying of it hath tiled my pen to 
give my several friends satisfaction, and brought me to a 
Necessity of producing it to the public view ; and now to 
ffer it up in all rightful devotion to thos^ feur hopes, and 

^i ^ 



t 



444 MILTON'S P0RT1CAL WORKS. 1-7. 

rare endowments of your much promising youth, which 
give a full assurance, to all that know you, of a future 
excellence. Live, sweet lord, to be the honour of your 
name, and receive this as your own, from the hands of him, 
ttho hath by many favours been long obliged to your most 
honoured parents, and as in this representation your 
attendant Thyrsis, so now in all leal expression 
Your faith fill and most 

humble servant, 

H. La wes. 

[In the edition of 1648 was also prefixed Sir Henry Wottont 
letter to the author upon the following poem.] 



THE PERSONS. 



The Attendant Spirit, afterwards 

in the habit of Thyrsis. 
Com us, with his crew. 
The Lady 
First Brother. 
Second Brother. 
Sabrina, the Nymph. 

The Chief Persons who presented were- 

The Lord Brackly. 

Mr. Thomas Egerton, his Brother. 

The Lady Alice Egerton 



[The first scene discovers a wild wood. The ArrrcKDiUT Spiiut 
descends or enters.] 

ATTENDANT SPIRIT. 

Before the starry threshold of Jove's court 

My mansion is, where those immortal shapes 

Of bright aerial spirits live insphered 

Tn regions mild of calm and serene air, 

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot, 

Which men call Earth ; and with low-though ted car© 

Confined, and pestered in this pinfold here, 



*<k 



8-41. COMUS. 445 

Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being, 
Unmindful 1 of the crown that virtue gives, 
After this mortal change to her true servants, 
Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats. 
Yet some there be, that by due steps aspire 
To lay their just hands on that golden key, 9 
That opes the palace of eternity : 
To such my errand is ; and but for such, 
I would not soil these pure ambroisal weeds 
With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould. 
But to my task. Neptune, besides the sway 
Of every salt flood, and each ebbing stream, 
Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove 
Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles, 
That, like to rich and various gems, 3 inlay 
The unadorned bosom of the deep : 
Which he, to grace his tributary gods, 
By course commits to several government, 
And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns, 
And wield their little tridents ; but this isle. 
The greatest and the best of all the main, 
He quarters to his blue-haired deities ; 
And all this tract that fronts the falling sun 
A noble peer of mickle trust and power 
Has in his charge, with tempered awe to guide 
An old and haughty nation, proud in arms : 
Where his fair offspring nursed in princely lore, 
Are coming to attend their father's state, 
And new-entrusted sceptre ; but their way 
Lies through the perplexed paths of this drear wood, 
The nodding horror of whose shady brows 
Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger; 
And here their tender age might suffer peril, 
But that by quick command from sovran Jove 

* The stress is upon this fact ; for, though it may not be a fault fa 
itself to 

" Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being," 

yet it certainly is to strive to keep it up " unmindful," &c.~ Newton. 

2 Of St. Peter. Cf. Lycidas, ver. 110. 

3 Cf. Richard II. act. ii. sc. 1, where John of Gaunt speaks of Eng- 
land as— 

" this little world, 
This precious stone set in the silver sen/ 



*&. 



44$ MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 4»-*i. 

L was despatched for their defence and guard: 
And listen why ; for I will tell you now 
What never yet was heard in tale or song, 
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. 

Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape 
Crushed the sweet poison of misused wine, 
After the Tuscan mariners transformed, 
Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed, 
On Circe's island fell (who knows not Circe, 
The daughter of the sun, whose charmed cup 
Whoever tasted lost his upright shape, 
And downward fell into a grovelling swine ?) : 
This nymph, that gazed upon his clustering locks 
With ivy berries wreathed, and his blithe youth, 
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son 
Much like his father, but his mother more, 
Whom therefore she brought up, and Comus named , 
Who, ripe and frolic of his full grown age, 
Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields, 1 
At last betakes him to this ominous wood ; 
And, in thick shelter of black shades embowered, 
Excels his mother at her mighty art, 
Offering to every weary traveller 
His orient liquor in a crystal glass, 
To quench the drouth of Phoebus ; which, as tney taste 
(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst), 
Soon as the potion works, their human countenance* 
The express resemblance of the gods, is changed 
Into some brutish form of wolf, or bear, 
Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded pfoat, 
All other parts remaining as they were , 
And they, so perfect is their misery, 
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement, 
But boast themselves more comely than before ; 
And all their friends and native home forget, 
To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty. 
Therefore when any, favoured of high Jove, 
Chances to pass through this adventurous glade, 
Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star 
I shoot from Heaven, to give him save convoy, 
As now T do ; but first I must put off 
These my sky robes spun out of Iris' woof, 3 

1 i. e France and Spain. 
* Cf. Par. Lost, xi. 244. 



iA 






*-ii3. COMUS. 

And take the weeds and likeness of a swain, 
That to the service of this house belongs, 
Who, with his soft pipe and smooth-dittied song, 
Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar, 
And hush the waving woods , nor of less faith, 
And in this office of his mountain watch, 
Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid 
Of this occasion. But I hear the tread 
Of hateful steps ! I must he viewless now. 

[Comus enters with a charming r*i. in one hand, his glass in the 
other ; "with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts of 
wild beasts, but otherwise like men and women, their apparel 
glistering ; they come in making a riotous and unruly noise, 
with their torches in their bands.] 

COMUS. 

The star that bids the shepherd fold. 
Now the top of Heaven doth hold ; 
And the gilded car of day 
His glowing axle doth allay 
In the steep Atlantic stream ; 
And the slope sun his upward beam 
Shoots against the dusky pole, 
Pacing toward the other goal 1 
Of his chamber in the east. 
Meanwhile welcome joy and feast, 
Midnight shout and revelry, 
Tipsy dance and jollity. 
Braid your locks with rosy twine. 
Dropping odours, dropping wine. 
Rigour now is gone to bed, 
And advice with scrupulous head. 
Strict age, and sour severity, 
With their grave saws in slumber lie 
We, that are of purer fire, 
Imitate the starry quire; 
Who, in their nightly watchful spheres, 
Lead in swift round the months and years. 
The sounds and seas, with all their finny drovs 
Now to the moon in wavering morrice move ; 
And, on the tawny sands and shelves, 
Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves. 
1 See Ps. six, S. 



■& 



448 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 113-15* 

By dimpled brook, and fountain brhn, 
The wood-nymphs, decked with daisies trim, 
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep ; 
What hath night to do with sleep? 
Night hath better sweets to prove. 
Venns now wakes, and wakens Love 
Come, let us our rites begin ; 
'Tis only daylight that makes sin, 
Which these dun shades will ne'er report. 
Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport, 
Dark- veiled Cotytto! 1 to whom the secret flame 
Of midnight torches burns ; mysterious dame, 
That ne'er art called, but when the dragon woml 
Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom, 
And makes one blot of all the air ; 
Stay thy cloudy ebon chair, 
Wherein thou rid'st wim Hecat, and befriend 
TJs thy vowed priests, till utmost end 
Of all thy dues be done, and none left out ; 
Ere the blabbing eastern scout, 
The nice morn, on the Indian steep 
From her cabined loophole peep, 
|. And to the tell-tale sun descry 
Our concealed solemnity. 
Come, knit hands, and beat the ground, 
In a light fantastic round. 

The Measure. 
Break off, break off, I feel the different pace 
Of some chaste footing near about this ground. 
Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees 1 
Our number may affright : some virgin sure 
(For so I can distinguish by mine art) 
Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, 
And to my wily trains : I shall, ere long, 
Be well stocked with as fair a herd as grazed 
About my mother Circe Thus I hurl 
My dazzling spells into the spongy air, 
Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion 
And give it false presentments, lest the place 
And my quaint habits breed astonishment, 
And put the damsel to suspicious flight, 
Which must not be, for that's against my course 

1 The goddess of immodesty, formerly worshipped at Athene wit) 
nocturnal rites. 



^ 



t 



-4h 



160-199. COM US. 449 

I, under fair pretence of friendly ends, 

And well-placed words of glozi ng courtesy, 

Baited with reasons not implausible, 

Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 

And hug him into snares. When once her eye 

Hath met the virtue of this magic dust, 

I shall appear some harmless villager, 

Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear. 

But here uhe comes ; I fairly step aside, 

And hearken, if I may, her business here. 

[The Lady enters.] 



This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, 
My best guide now : methought it was the sound 
Of riot and ill-managed merriment, 
Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pipe, 
Stirs up among the loose unlettered hinds, 
When, for then- teeming flocks, and granges full, 
In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan, 
And thank the gods amiss. I should be loth 
To meet the rudeness and swilled insolence 
Of such late wassailers ; yet oh ! where else 
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 
In the blind mazes of this tangled wood ? 
My brothers, when they saw me wearied out 
With this long way, resolving here to lodge 
Under the spreading favour of these pines, 
Stepped, as they said, to the next thicket side, 
To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit 
As the kind hospitable woods provide. 
They left me then, when the gray-hooded even, 
Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, 
Hose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain. 
But where they are, and why they came not back. 
Is now the labour of my thoughts ; 'tis likeliest 
They had engaged their wandering steps too far, 
And envious darkness, ere they could return, 
Had stole them from me ; else, O thievish night \ 
Why shouldst *hou, but for some felonious end, 
In thy dark lanthorn thus close up the stars-, 
That nature hung in Heaven, and filled their lana]& 
With everlasting oil, to give due light 



450 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 200-241, 



To the misled and lonely traveller? 

This is the place, as well as I may guess, 

Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth 

Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear ; 

Yet nought but single darkness do I find. 

What might this be ? A thousand fantasies 

Begin to throng into my memory, 

Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, 

And airy tongues, that syllable men's names 

On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses. 

These thoughts may startle well, but not astound, 

The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 

By a strong siding champion, conscience. 

Oh, welcome, pure-eyed faith, white-handed hope, 

Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings, 

And thou unblemished form of chastity ! 

I see ye visibly, and now believe 

That he, the Supreme Good, to whom all things iii 

Are but as slavish officers of vengeance, 

Would send a glistering guardian, if need were, 

To keep my life and honour nuassailed. 

Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud 

Turn forth her silver lining on the night? 

I did not err, there does a sable cloud 

Turn forth her silver lining on the night, 

And casts a gleam over this tufted grove : 

. cannot halloo to my brothers, but 

Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest 

I'll venture, for my new enlivened spirits 

Prompt me ; and they perhaps are not far off. 

Song. 
Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen 

Within thy airy shell, 1 

By slow Meander's margent green, 
/tnd :n the violet-embroidered vale, 

Where the love-lorn nightingale 
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well ; 
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair 

That likest thy Narcissus are? 
Oh ! if thou have 

Hid them in some flowery cave, 
Tell me but where, 
Sweet queen of parley, daughter of the sphere. 
' The margin of Milton's MS. ^ives " cell." See Newton, 



O 



■& 



♦■ffiM- 



T~r , . . fr »gH^ 



«42-279. COMUS. 



So mayst thou bo translated to the sides, 
A?id give resounding grace to all Heaven's harmonies, 

COMUS. 

Oan any mortal mixture of earth's mould 
Bieathe such divine enchanting ravishment ? 
Suie something holy lodges in that breast, 
And with these raptures moves the vocal aJT 
To testify his hidden residence : 
How sweetly do they float upon the wiugs 
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night. 
At every fall smoothing the raven down 
Of darkness till it smiled ! I have oft heard 
My mother Circe with the Sirens three, 
Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades 
Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs, 
Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul 
And lap it in Elysium: Seylla wept, 1 
And chid her barking waves into attention, 
And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause ; 
Yet they in pleasing slumber lulled the sense, 
And in sweet madness robbed it of itself; 
But such a sacred and home-felt delight, 
Such sober certainty of waking bliss, 
I never heard till now. I'll speak to her, 
And she shall be my queen. Hail, foreign wonder 3 
Whom certain these rough shades did never breed, 
Unless the goddess that in rural shrine 
Dwell'st here with Pan, or Sylvan ; by blest song 
Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog 
To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood. 

LADY. 

Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that praise 
That is addressed to unattending ears ; 
Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift 
flow £0 regain my severed company, 
Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo 
To give me answer from her mossy couch. 

COMUS. 

What chance, good lady, hath bereft you thus ? 

LADY. 

Dim darkness, and this leafy labyrinth 

COMUS. 

Could that divide you from ncar-uslieiir:? iniidun"* 

5 S«e Paradise Lost, ii. 200, iu'-J. 

G G 



V 



•^tr 



45 2 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 280-306, 



LADY. 

They left me weary on a grassy turf. 

COMUS. 

By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why ? 

LADY. 

To seek i' the valley some cool, friendly spring. 

COMUS. 

And left your fair side all unguarded, lady ? 

LADY. 

Fliey were but twain, and purposed quick return 

COMUS. 

Perhaps forestalling night prevented them. 

LADY. 

How easy my misfortune is to hit ! 

COMUS. 

Imports their loss, beside trie present need ? 

LADY. 

No less than if I should my brothers lose 

COMUS. 

Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom ? 

LADY. 

As smooth as Hebe's their unrazored lips. 

COMUS. 

■Two such I saw, what time the laboured ox 
In his loose traces from the furrow came, 
And the swinkt 1 hedger at his supper sat; 
I saw them under a greeu mantling vine 
That crawls along the trlde of yon small hill, 
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots ; 
Then* port was more than human, as they stood ; 
I took it for a fairy vision 
Of some gay creatures of the element, 
That in the colours of the rainbow live, 
And play i' the plighted clouds. I was awe-strucK 
And, as I jussed, I worshipped ; if those you seek, 
It were a journey like the path to Heaven, 
To help you find them. 

LADY. 

Gentle villager, 
Nhat readiest way would bring me to that place ? 

COMUS. 

iJ'-ie west it rises from this shrubby point 



V 



*• Tired, from STvink, to toil or Inbour. 



V 



^ 



4h 



107—3^. COMUS. 4 S3 

LADY. 

To find out that, good shepherd, I supponft, 
In such a scant allowance of star-light, 
Would overtask the best land-pilot's art, 
Without the sure guess of well-practised feet 

COMUS. 

I know each lane, and every alley green, 
Dingle, or bushy dell of this wild wood, 
And every bosky 1 bourn from side to side, 
My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood \ 
And if your stray attendants be yet lodged, 
Or shroud within these limits, I shall know 
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark 
From her thatched pallet rouse : if otherwise, 
I can conduct you, lady, to a low 
But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 
Till further quest. 

LADY. 

Shepherd, I take thy word, 
And trust thy honest-offered courtesy, 
Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds 
With smoky rafters, than in tap'stry halls 
And courts of princes, where it first was named, 
And yet is most pretended : in a place 
Less warranted than this, or less secure, 
I cannot be, that I should fear to change it. 
Eye me, blest Providence, and square my trial 
To my proportioned strength! Shepherd, lead of?. 

[The two Bkotheks."] 
ELDER BROTHER. 

Unmuffle, ye faint stars ; and thou fair moon, 
That wont'st 3 to love the traveller's benizon, 
Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, 
And disinherit Chaos, that reigns here 
In double night of darkness and of shades ; 
Or if your influence be quite dammed up 
With black usurping mists, some gentle taper, 

though a rush-candle from the wicker hole 

)i some clay habitation, visit us 
With thy long levelled rule of streaming light, 
And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, 
Or Tyrian Cynosure. 

1 Woody. *• Art rwwior<).c.<L 



& 



4- 



454 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 343-383. 



SECOND BROTHER. 

Or, if our eyes 
Be baned that happiness, might we but hear 
The folded flocks penned in their wattled cotes, 
Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops, 
Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock 
Count the night watches to his feathery dames, 
Twould be some solace yet, some little cheering, 
In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. 
But oh, that hapless virgin, our lost sister ! 
Where may she wander now? whither betake her 
From the chill dew, amongst rude burs and thistles ? 
Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now; 
Or 'gainst the rugged bark of some broad elm 
Leans her unpillowed head, fraught with sad fears. 
What if in wild amazement and affright? 
Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp 
Of savage hunger, or of savage heat? 

ELDER BROTHER. 

Peace, brother! be not over-exquisite 
To cast the fashion of uncertain evils; 
For grant they be so, while they rest unknown, 
What need a man forestall his date of grief, 
And run to meet what he would most avoid? 
Or if they be but false alarms of fear, 
How bitter is such self-delusion ! 
I do not think my sister so to seek, 
Or so unprincipled in virtue's book, 
And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms evti 
As that the single want of light and noise 
(Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) 
Could stir the constant mood of her calm thought?, 
And put them into misbecoming plight. 
Virtue could see to do what virtue would 
By her own radiant light, though sun and moon 
Were in the flat sea sunk. And wisdom's self 
Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, 
Where, with her best nurse, contemplation. 
She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wingu. 
Tli at in the various bustle of resort 

>V~ere all too ruffled, and sometimes impaired. 

tie that has light within Ids own clear breast 
.'/lay sit i' the centre, and enjoy bright day; 
But he that hides a d*rk soul and foul thoughts, 



3S4— 4.20. 



COMUS. 455 



*&r 



Benighted walks under the midday sun; 
Himself is his own dungeon. 

SECOND BROTHER. 

'Tis most true, 
Tli at musing meditation most affects 
The pensive secresy of desert cell, 
Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds. 
And sits as safe as in a senate-house ; 
For who would rob a hermit of his weeds, 
His few hooks, or his beads, or maple dish, 
Or do his gray hairs any violence ? 
But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree 
Laden -with blooming gold, hath need the guard 
Of dragon-watch with unenchanted eye, 
To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit 
From the rash hand of bold incontinence. 
You may as well spread out the unsunned heaps 
Of misers' treasure by an outlaw's den, 
And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 
Danger will wink on opportunity, 
And let a single helpless maiden pass 
Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste. 
Of night, or loneliness, it recks me not ; 
I fear the dread events that dog them both, 
Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt the person 
Of our unowned sister 

ELDER BROTHER. 

I do not, brother, 
Tnfer, as if I thought my sister's state 
Secure without all doubt or controversy ; 
Yet, where an equal poise of hope and "fear 
Does arbitrate the event, my nature is 
That I incline to hope rather than fear* 
And gladly banish squint suspicion. 
My sister is not so defenceless left 
As you imagine : she has a hidden strength 
Which you remember not. 

SECOND BROTHER. 

What hidden strength. 
Unless the strength 0? Heaven, if you mean that? 

ELDER BROTHER. 

I mean that too ; but yet a hidden strength, 
Which, if Heaven gave it, may be termer 1 , her own; 
Tis chastity, my brother, chastity : 



X,' 



&+ 



-*m* 



456 MIL TON'S FOE TICAL WORKS. *n - 4 it 

She that has that is clad in complete steel, 

And, like a quivered nymph with arrows keen, 

May trace huge forests, and unharboured heaths 1 -. 

Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds; 

Where, through the sacred rays of chastity, 

No savage fierce, bandit, or mountaineer, 

Will dare to soil her virgin purity : 

Yea there, where very desolation dwells, 

By grots and caverns shagged with horrid sha.dea 

She may pass on with unblenched majesty, 

Be it not done in pride or in presumption. 

Some say no evil thing that walks by night, 

In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, 

Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost 

That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, 

No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, 

Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity. 

Do ye believe me yet? or shall I call 

Antiquity from the old schools of Greece 

To testify the arms of chastity? 

Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow, 

Fair silver-shafted queen, for ever chaste, 

Wherewith she tamed the brinded lioness 

And spotted mountain pard, but set at nought 

The frivolous bolt of Cupid ; gods and men 

Feared her stern frown, and she was queen 0' the woods 

What was that snaky headed Gorgon shield 

That wise Minerva wore, unconquered virgin, 

Wherewith she freezed her foes to congealed stone, 

But rigid looks of chaste austerity, 

And noble grace, that dashed brute violence 

With sudden adoration and blank awe ? 

So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity, 1 

That when a soul is found sincerely so, 

A thousand liveried angels lackey her, 

Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, 

And, in clear dream, and solemn vision, 

Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear ; 

' Spenser, F. Q. iii. 8, 29 :— 

" See how the Heavens, of voluntary grace, 
And sovereign favour towards chastity. 
Do succour send to her distressed case: 
So much high GbA <Jaib innocence e*»Wce, r —- f'hfti, 

♦<&« ^ 



T — — T 

459-489- COMUS. 457 

Till oft converse with heavenly habitants 

Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, 

The unpolluted temple of the mind, 1 

And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence,* 

Till all be made immortal ; but when lust, 

By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul tali 4 

But most by lewd and lavish act of sin, 

Lets in defilement to the inward parts, 

The soul grows clotted by contagion, 

Embodies, and embrutes, till she quite lose • 

The divine property of her first being. 

Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 

Oft seen in chamel vaults and sepulchres 

Lingering, and sitting by a new-m&de grave, 

As loth to leave the body that it loved, 

And linked itself by carnal sensuality 

To a degenerate and degraded state. 

SECOND BROTHER. 

How charming is divine philosophy ! 3 
Nor harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, 
But musical as is Apollo's lute, 
And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets, 
Where no crude surfeit reigns. 

ELDER BROTHER. 

list, list ! I hear 
Some far off halloo break the silent air. 

SECOND BROTHER. 

Methought so too ; what should it be ? 

ELDER BROTHER. 

For cert^o. 

Either some one like us night-foundered here, 
Or else some neighbour woodman, or, at worst. 
Some roving robber calling to his fellows. 

SECOND BROTHER. 

Heaven keep my sister ! Again, again, and neav 
Best draw and stand upon our guard, 

ELDER BROTHER. 

Ill halloo; 

If he be friendly, he comes well ; if not, 
Defence is a good cause, and Heaven be for us. 

1 Cf. John ii. 21. 

2 Milton here somewhat betrays his materialist tendency. 

3 This alludes more particularly to the philosophy of Pltio, Vffit 
•rent by the surname of divive 



4 



458 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 490-519. 

[The Attendant Spirit habited, like a Shepherd.] 

That halloo I should know; what are you? Speak! 
Come not too near, you fall on iron stakes else. 

SPIRIT. 

What voice is that ? My young lord? Speak again 

SECOND BROTHER. 

O brother ! tis my father's shepherd, sure. 

ELDER BROTHER. 

Thyrsis? whose artful strains 1 have oft delayed 
The huddling brook to hear his madrigal, 
And sweetened every musk-rose of the dale. 
How cam'st thou here, good swain ? Hath any ram 
Slipped from the fold, or young kid lost his dam, 
Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook ? 
How couldst thou find this dark sequestered nook ? 
spirit. 

O my loved master's heir, and his next joy ! 
I came not here on such a trivial toy 
As a strayed ewe, or to pursue the stealth 
Of pilfering wolf; not all the fleecy wealth 
That doth enrich these downs, is worth a thought 
To this my errand, and the care it brought. 
But oh, my virgin lady ! where is she ? 
How chance she is not in your company? 

ELDER BROTHER. 

To tell thee sadly, 2 shepherd, without blame, 
Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 
spirit. 
Ay me unhappy ! then my fears are true 

ELDER BROTHER. 

What fears, good Thyrsis ? Prythee briefly shew 
spirit. 

lTl tell ye; 'tis not vain or fabulous 
(Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance) 
What the sage poets, taught by the heavenly muso, 
Storied of old in high immortal verse, 
Of dire chimeras, and enchanted isles, 
And rifted rocks wh )se entrance leads to Hell ; 
For such there be ; but unbelief is blind. 

1 An elegant compliment to the musical abilities of Mr. Henry 
L&wes, a celebrated musician of the time, and who probably sustained 
the two parts of the genius of the wood and the attendant spirit. Sef 
litswton. 

2 Soberly, tru^. 



*(|h 



<F 



4 



520-5S3- COMUS. 459 

Within the navel? of this hideous wood, 
Immured in cypress shades, a sorcerer dwells, 
Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus, 
Deep skilled in all his mother's witcheries ; 
And here to every thirsty wanderer, 
By sly enticement, gives his baneful cup, 
With many murmurs mixed, whose pleasing poison 
The visage quite transforms o f him that ch'inks, 
And the inglorious likeness of a beasv 
Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage 
Charactered 2 in the face; this have I learnt 
Tending my flocks hard by i' the hilly crofts 
That brow this bottom glade ; whence night by night 
He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl 
Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey, 
Doing abhorred rites to Hecate 
In their obscured haunts of inmost bowers. 
Yet have they many baits, and guileful spells 
To inveigle and invite the unwary sense 
Of them that pass unweeting by the way. 
This evening late, by then the chewing flocks 
Had ta'en their supper on the savomy herb 
Of knot-grass dew-besprent, 3 and were in fold, 
I sat me down to watch upon a bank 
With ivy canopied, and interwove 
With flaunting honeysuckle, and began, 
Wrapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy, 
To meditate my rural minstrelsy, 
Till fancy had her fill ; but, ere a close, 
The wonted roar was up amidst the woods, 
And filled the air with barbarous dissonance ; 
At which I ceased, and listened them awhile, 
Till an unusual stop of sudden silence 
Gave respite to the drowsy-flighted 4 steeds 

1 Depth, middle. 

2 Both Spenser and Shakspeare use this word with the same accent 
& Milton has done here. 

3 Besprent, i. e. sprinkled. " Knot-grass " is mentioned in Midsum- 
mer Night's Dream, iii. 7. . I 

4 So the commentators have rightly restored, instead of "drowsy- 
frighted." Milton had in view Shakspeare, 2 Henry VI. act 4, sc. L— 

" And now loud howling wolves arouse the jades, 
That drag the tragic melancholy night, 
Who, with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wiuga, 
Clip dead men's graves," 



li/ 4 ' 



^A*> 



•& 



460 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 554-5*8. 

That draw the litter of close-curtained sleep ; 

At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound 1 

Rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes, 

And stole upon the air, that even Silence 

Was took ere she was ware, and wished she might 

Deny her nature, and be never more 

Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, 

And took in strains that might create a soul 

Under the ribs of death : 2 but oh, ere long, 

Too well I did perceive it was the voice 

Of my most honoured lady, your dear sister. 

Amazed I stood, harrowed with grief and fear 

And oh, poor hapless nightingale, thought I, 

How sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare S 

Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste, 

Through paths and turnings often trod by day, 

Till, guided by mine ear, I found the place, 

Where that damned wizard, hid in sly disguise 

(Tor so by certain signs I knew), had met 

Already, ere my best speed could prevent, 

The aidless innocent lady, his wished prey, 

Who gently asked if he had seen such two, 

Supposing him some neighbour villager. 

Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guessed 

Ye were the two she meant ; with that I sprung 

Into swift flight, till I had found you here, 

But further know I not. 

SECOND BROTHER. 

night and shades, 
How are ye joined with Hell in triple knot 
Against the unarmed weakness of one virgin 
Alone, and helpless ! Is this the confidence 
You gave me, brother? 

ELDER BROTHER. 

Yes, and keep it still , 
i oan on it safely ; not a period 
Shall be unsaid for me : against the tin-eats 
Of malice, or of sorcery, or that power 
Which erring men call chance, this I hold firm , 

1 See the beginning of Twelfth Night. 

2 This grotesque comparison is taken from one of Alciat's emllema. 
v?here a soul in the figure of an infant is represented within the itba 
uf .?, skeleton, as in a prson. 



-<$- 






^ 



589-618. COMUS. 461 

Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, 1 

Surprised by unjust force, but not enthralled ; 

Yea even that which mischief meant most harm, 

Shall in the happy trial prove most glory : 

But evil on itself shall back recoil, 

And mix no more with goodness ; when at last, 

Gathered like scum, and settled to itself, 

It shall be in eternal restless change, 

Self-fed, and self-consumed : 2 if this fail, 

The pillared firmament 3 is rottenness, 

And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's oil 

Against the opposing will and ami of Heaven 

May never this just sword be lifted up ! 

But for that damned magician, let him be girt 

With all the grisly legions that troop 

Under the sooty flag of Acheron, 

Harpies and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms 

'Twixt Africa and Ind, I'll find him out, 

And force him to restore his purchase back, 

Or drag him by the curls to a fonl death, 

Cursed as his life. 

SPIRIT. 

Alas ! good venturous youth, 
I love thy courage yet, and bold emprise ; 
But here thy sword can do thee little stead ; 
Far other arms, and other weapons, must 
Be those that quell the might of hellish charms : 
He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints, 
And crumble all thy sinews. 

ELDER BROTHER. 

Why prythee, shepherd 
How ourst thou then thyself approach so near, 
As to ma>e this relation? 

SPIRIT. 

Care and utmost shifts 
How to secuie the lady from surprisal, 

1 Milton seems to allude to the famous answer of the philosophfct 
to u tyrant, who threatened him with death, " Thou niayst kill me,, 
but thou canst not hurt me." — Thyer. 

2 This image is taken from the conjectures of astronomers concern- 
ing the dark spots which, from time to time, appear on the surface of 
the sun's body, and, after a while, disappear again, which they suppose 
to be the scum of that fiery matter, which first breeds it, and then 
breaks through and consumes it. — Warbutton. 

3 Cf. Puradise Eegainsd, iv. *Wf>. 



^ 



+&* 



+Z7 



..c,^ 



462 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 619-651. 

Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad, 

Of small regard to see to, yet well skilled 

In every virtuous plant and healing herb 

That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray % 

He loved me well, 1 and oft would beg me sing, 

Which when I did, he on the tender grass 

Would Bit, and hearken even to ecstasy, 

And in requital ope his leathern scrip, 

And snow me simples of a thousand names. 

Telling their strange and vigorous faculr'tf ■ 

Amongst the rest a small unsightly root. 

But of divine effect, he culled me out ; 

The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it ; 

But in another country, as he said, 

Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil; 1 

Unknown, and like esteemed, and the dull swain 

Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon ; 3 

And yet more med'cinal is it than that moly* 

That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave; 

He called it hsemony, and gave it me, 

And bade me keep it as of sovran use 

'Gainst all enchantments, mildew, blast, or damp, 

Or ghastly furies' apparition. 

I pursed it up, but little reckoning made, 

Till now that this extremity compelled : 

But now I find it true ; for by this means 

I knew the foul enchanter, though disguised, 

Entered the very lime-twigs of his spells, 

Anil yet came off: if you have this about you, 

(As I will give you when we go) you may 

Boldly assault the necromancer's hall ; 

Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood, 

A ad brandished blade, rush on him ; break his glass, 

1 This is perhaps a compliment to the author's friend and school- 
fellow, Charles Deodati, who had been bred up a physician. 

2 Seward would omit " not," and substitute " light esteemed." "But, 
as Newton observes, " unknown and like esteemed" tsay be 'a"ken as 
equivalent to unknown and zmesteemed. 

3 So in 2 Henry VI. act 4, sc. 3. Cade says :— 

" We will not leave one lord, one gentleman } 
Spare not, but such as go in clouted shoon.'' 

4 See Tope's Homer's Odyssey, x. 361 sq. Pliny, Nat. Hist. xxiv. i, 
speaks of it highly; but its nature and properties arc unknown 
P.'hyer thinks it was the herb c/UVx* sp'miwert. 



♦$♦ 



652—679. COMUS. 463 

And shed the luscious liquor on the ground, 
But seize his wand ; though he and his cursed crev? 
Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high, 
Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoke, 
Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink, 

ELDER BROTHER. 

Thyrsis, lead on apace, I'll follow thee; 
And some good angel bear a shield before us \ 

[The scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all marinei 
of deliciousness ; soft music, tables spread with all dainties. 
Comus appears with his rabble, and the Lady set in an en- 
chanted chair, to whom he offers his glass, which she puts by, 
and goes about to rise.] 

COMUS. 
Nay, lady, sit; if I but wave this wand, 
Your nerves are all chained up in alabaster, 
And you a statue, or, as Daphne was, 
Root-bound, that fled Apollo. 

LADY. 

Fool ! do not boast ; 
Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 
With all thy charms, although this corporal rind 
Thou hast immanacled, while Heaven sees good. 

COMUS. 

Why are you vexed, lady? why do you frown? 
Here dwell no frowns, nor anger ; from these gates 
Sorrow flies far : see, here be all the pleasures 
That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts, 1 
When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 
Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season. 
And first behold this cordial julep here, 
That flames and dances in his crystal bounds, 2 
With spirits of balm and fragrant syrups mixed. 
J-Jot that Nepenthes, 3 which the wife of Thone 
In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena, 
Is of &uch power to stir up joy as this, 
To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst. 
Why should you be so cruel to yourself, 

An improvement on Romeo and Juliet, act i. sc. 3. 
1 Prov. xxiii. 31 : " Look not thou to the wine when it is red, wrMj. 
U jrireth his colour in the cup, when it moveih itself aright." 
- See Pope'i Odyssey, iv. 301, so,., and the Faerie Qae«;n, iv. 3, ib. 



•$*" 









464 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 680-723. 

And to those dainty limbs which Nature lent 

For gentle usage, and soft delicacy ? 

But you invert the covenants of her trust, 

And harshly deal, like an ill borrower, 

With that which you received on other terms, 

Scorning the unexempt condition 

By which all mortal frailty must subsist, 

Kefreshment after toil, ease after pain, 

That have been tired all day without repast, 

And timely rest have wanted ; but, fair virgi a, 

This will restore all soon. 

LADY. 

'Twill not, false traito/ \ 
'Twill not restore the truth and honesty 
That thou hast banished from thy tongue with lies. 
Was this the cottage, and the safe abode, 
Thou told'st me of? What grim aspects are these. 
These ugly-headed monsters ? Meicy guard me ! 
Hence with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver! 
Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence 
With visored falsehood, and base forgery ? 
And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here 
With liquorish baits fit to ensnare a brute? 
Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets, 
I would not taste thy treasonous offer ; none 
But such as are good men can give good things, 
And that which is not good, is not delicious 
To a well-governed and wise appetite, 

COMUS. 

Oh, foolishness of men ! that lend their eai$ 
To those budge doctors of the Stoic fur, 
And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub, 
Praising the lean and sallow abstinence. 
Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth 
With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, 
Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks, 
Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, 
But all to please and sate the curious taste ? 
And set to work millions of spinning worms, 
That in their green shops weave the smooth-haired silk 
To deck her sons ; and, that no corner might 
Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins 
She hutched the all-worshipped ore, and precious gems 
To store her children with : if all tbe world 



V 



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Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets 
I would not taste thy treasonous offer. 



4* 



7«~753. COMUS. 465 

Should in a pet of temperance feed on pulse, 

Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, 

The All-giver would be unthanked, would be unpraised, 

Not half his riches known, and yet despised ; 

And we should serve him as a grudging master, 

As a penurious niggard of his wealth, 

And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons, 

Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight, 

And strangled with her waste fertility; [plumes* 

The earth cumbered, and the winged air darked with 

.The herds would over-multitude then lords, 

Ilie sea o'erfraught would swell, and the unsought diamonds 

Would so emblaze the forehead of the deep, 

And so bestud with stars, that they below 

Would grow inured to light, and come at last 

To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows. 

List, lady, be not coy, and be not cozened 

With that same vaunted name, virginity. 

Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, 

But must be current; and the good thereof 

Consists in mutual and partaken bliss, 

Unsavoury in the enjoyment of itself ; 

If you let slip time, like a neglected rose 

It withers on the stalk with languished head. 8 

Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown 

In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, 

Where most may wonder at the workmanship ; 

It is for homely features to keep home, 3 

They had their name thence ; coarse complexios, 

And cheeks of sorry grain, will serve to ply 

The sampler, and to tease the housewife's wool 

What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that, 

Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn? 

1 The image is taken from what the ancients said of the ail 
of the northern islands, that it was clogged and darkened \?itb 
feathers. 

2 Spenser, F. Q. ii. 12, 75 :— 

" Gather therefore the rose, whilst yet is prime, 
For soon comes age, that will her pride deflower; 
Gather the rose of love, whilst yet is time, 
Whilst loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime." 

■ — Aftu'fon, 
f So in the Two Gentlemen of Terona: — 

'' Home-keephm youths have ever hoaely wits." 



♦ 



W* — — M 

$66 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 754-7*. 

There was another meaning in those gifts , 
Think what, and he advised : you are but young jet. 
lady" 
I had not thought to have unlocked my lips 1 
In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler 
Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eye3, 
Obtruding false rules prankt 4 in reason's garb. 
I hate when vice can bolt 3 her arguments, 
And virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 
Tinpostor, do not charge most innocent Nature, 
As if she would her children should be riotous 
With her abundance ; she, good cateress, 
Means her provision only to the good, 
That live according to her sober laws, 
And holy dictate of spare temperance : 
If every just man, that now pines with want, 
Had but a moderate and beseeming share 
Of that which lewdly-pampered luxury 
Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, 
Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed 
In unsuperfluous even proportion, 
And she no whit encumbered with her store ; 
And then the Giver would be better thanked, 
His praise due paid; for swinish gluttony 
Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous fea?*, 
But with besotted base ingratitude 
Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder. Shall I go on \ 
Or have I said enough ? To him that dares 
Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words 
Against the sun-clad power of chastity, 
Fain would I something say, yet to what end ? 
Thou hast nor ear, nor soul, to apprehend 
The sublime notion, and high mystery, 
That must be uttered to unfold the sage 
And serious doctrine of virginity ; 
And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know 
More happiness than this thy present lot. 
Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence, 
Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced; 

1 The six following lines are spoken aside. — Sympnon 
, 2 Decked, dressed. 

3 Sift, or da? S aim. See Njwion. 



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•0* 



COMUS. 467 

Yet, should I try, the uncontrolled worth 

Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits 

To such a flame of sacred vehemence, 

That dumb things would he moved to sympathize, 

And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and shake, 

Till all thy magic structures, reared so high, 

Were shattered into heaps o'er thy false head. 

COMUS. 

She fables not: I feel that I do fear 1 
Her words set off by some superior power; 
And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dr*« 
Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove 
Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus, 
To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble, 
And try her yet more strongly. Come, no more; 
This is mere moral babble, and direct 
Against the canon laws of our foundation ; 
I must not suffer this, yet 'tis but the lees 
And settlings of a melancholy blood : 
But this will cure all straight ; one sip of this 
Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight 
Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste 

[The Brothers rush in with swords drawn, wrest his glass out 
of his band, and break it against the ground: his rout make 
sign of resistance, but are all driven in. The Attendant 
Spirit comes in.] 

SFIB1T. 

What, have you let the false enchanter 'scape? 
Oh ! ye mistook, ye should have snatched his wan3 { 
And bound him fast ; without his rod reversed, 
And backward mutters of dissevering power, 
We cannot free the lady that sits here 
In stony fetters fixed, and motionless : 
Yet stay, be not disturbed ; now I bethink rce. 
Some other means I have which may be used, 
Whi jh once of Meliboeus old I learnt, 
The soothest shepherd that e'er piped on plains. 

There is a gentle nymph not far from hence, 
That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn strean. 

1 Perhaps it is better to put a semicolon after that, meaning : " 1 
feel that she does not fable," &c. — Sympson. These six lines ftn» 
ifoo gpoken aside. 

H H 



-*■*«* 



468 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 826-853. 

Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure ; 
Whilonie she was the daughter of Locrine, 1 
That had the sceptre from his father Brute, 
She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit 
Of her enraged stepdame Guendolen, 
Commended her fair innocence to the flood, 
'lliat stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course 
The water nymphs that in the bottom played, 
Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, 
Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall, 
Who, piteous of our woes, reared her lank head, 
And gave her to his daughters to embathe 
In nectared lavers skewed with asphodel, 
And through the porch and inlet of each sense 
Dropped in ambrosial oils till she revived, 
And underwent a quick immortal change, 
Made goddess of the river : still she retains 
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve 
Visits the herds along the twilight meadows, 
Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs 
That the shrewd meddling elf 2 delights to make, 
Which she with precious vialled liquors heals; 
For which the shepherds at their festivals 
Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays, 
And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream 
Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils. 
And, as the old swain said, she can unlock 
The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell, 

1 Locrine, king of the Britons, married Guendolen, the daughter o£ 
Corineus, Duke of Cornwall; but in secret, for fear of Corineus, 
he loved Estrildis, a fair captive whom he had taken in a battie with 
Humber, king of the Huns, and had by her a daughter equally fair, 
whose name was Sabrina. But when once his fear was off, by the 
death of Corineus, not content with secret enjoyment, divorcing 
Guendolen, he made Estrildis now his queen. Guendolen, all in 
rage, departs into Cornwall, and, gathering an army of her father'!/ 
friends and subjects, gives battle to her husband by the river Sture ; 
wherein Locrine, shot with an arrow, ends his life. But not so enda 
the fiuy of Guendolen, for Estrildis and her daughter Sabra she 
throws into a river; and, to leave a monument of revenge, proclaims* 
that the stream be thenceforth called after the damsel's name, which 
by length of time is now called Sabrina or Severn. This is the 
account given by Milton himself in the first book of his History of 
England ; but he here takes some liberties with the story, in order to 
heighten the character of Sabrina.— -Newton. 

- Puck, or Eobin Goodfe* 1 ™y. 



> 



■^ 



"t* 



4* 



1 



BS4-891. COMUS. 469 

If she be righi 'nvoked in warbled song ; 
For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 
To aid a virgin, such as was herseli, 
In hard-besetting need : this will I try, 
And add the power of some adjuring verso 
Song. 

Sabrina fair, 
Listen where thou art sitting 

Under the glassy, cool, translucent wate. 
In twisted braids of lilies knitting 

The loose train of thy amber-dropping ba's* 
Listen for dear honour's sake, 
Goddess of the silver lake, 
Listen, and save 

Listen, and appear to us, 

In name of great Oceanus ; 

By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace, 

And Tethys' grave majestic pace, 

By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look, 

And the Carpathian wizard's 1 hook, 

By scaly Triton's winding shell, 

And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell, 

By Leucothea's lovely hands, 

And her son that rules the strands, 

By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet, 

And the songs of sirens sweet, 

By dead Parthenope's 2 dear tomb, 

And fair Ligea's 3 golden comb, 

Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks, 

Sleeking her soft alluring locks; 

By all the nymphs that nightly dance 

Upon thy streams with wily glance, 

Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 

From thy coral-paven bed, 

And bridle in thy headlong wave. 

Till thou our summons answered have 
Listen, and save. 

[Sabrtna rises, attended by water-nymphs, and *is.g%. j 
By the rushy-fringed bank, 
Where grows the willow and the osier dank, 

1 i. e. Proteus. 

- This tomb was at Naple3. 

5 One of the sirens, and also a seu-nympJi 



*fflh 



470 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 892-9=5. 

My sliding chariot stays, 
Thick set with agate, and the azure sheen 
O turkis blue, and emerald green, 

That in the channel strays ; 
Whilst from off the waters fleet 
Thus I set my printless feet 
O'er the cowslip's velvet head, 

That bends not as I tread; 
Gentle swain, at thy request 

I am here. 

SPIRIT. 

Goddess dear, 
We implore thy powerful hand 
To undo the charmed band 
Of true virgin here distressed, 
Through the force, and through the wile, 
Of unblest enchanter vile. 

SABRINA. 

Shepherd, 'tis my office best 
To help ensnared chastity : 
Brightest lady, look on me ; 
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast 
Drops, that from my lountain pure 
I have kept, of precious cure ; 
Thrice upon thy finger's tip, 
Thrice upon thy rubied lip ; 
Next this marble venomed seat, 
Smeared with gums of glutinous heat, 
I touch with chaste palms moist and cold : 
Now the spell hath lost his hold ; 
And I must haste, ere morning horn-, 
To wait in Amphitrite's bower. 

[Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her aert.] 
SPIRIT. 

Virgiu, daughter of Lccrine, 
Sprung of (?l.d Anchises' line, 1 
May thy bummed 2 waves for this 
Their full tribute never miss 

1 For Locrine was the son of Brutus, who was the son of Silrius, 
fto of Ascanius, and Ascanius of ./Eneas, tin son of Anchison. 
* ». e. Enftflirujb rising to the. brim. 



i 



+^>* 



«■<&* 



926-959. COM US. 471 



From a thousand petty rills, 
That tumble down the snowy hills : 
Summer drouth, or singed air, 
Never scorch thy tresses fair, 
Nor wet October's torrent flood 
Thy molten crystal fill with mud . 
May thy billows roll ashore 
The beryl, and the golden ore ; 
May thy lofty head be crowned 
With many a tower and terrace round, 
And here and there thy banks upon 1 
With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 

Come, lady, while Heaven lends us grace, 
Let us fly this cursed place, 
Lest the sorcerer us entice 
With some other new device. 
Not a waste or needless sound 
Till we come to holier ground, 
I shall be your faithful guide 
Through this gloomy covert wide ; 
And not many furlongs thence 
Is your father's residence, 
Where this night are met in state 
Many a friend to gratulate 
His wished presence , and, beside, 
All the swains that near abide, 
With jigs and rural dance resort : 
We shall catch them at their sport ; 
And our sudden coming there 
Will double all their mirth and cheer. 
Come, let us haste, the stars grow high. 
But night sits monarch yet in the mid eky 

[The Scene changes, presenting Ludlow town and the Presi- 
dent's castle ; then come in country dancers ; after them the 
Attend ant Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady.] 

Song. 

SPIRIT. 

Back, shepherds, back ! enough your play, 
Till next sunshine holiday : 

1 Banks is the nominative case, as head was in the last line hut cue. 
The sense and syntax of the whole is, may thy head be crowned round 
about with towers, <Src, and here and there [may] thy banks [bs 
irowned'] upon with groves, &c— ?'ft<TTe<pcivTO cot a\ oyOai. Ibe 
«>hrase is Greek. — Callow 

«$< — »§• 



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A 



472 MILTON'S POLITICAL WORKS. 960-593. 

Here be, without duck or nod, 

Other trippings to be trod 

Of lighter toes, and such court guise 

As Mercury did first devise, 

With the mincing Dryades, 

On the lawns, and on the leas. 1 

(This second Song presents them to their Father and Mother.] 

Noble lord, and lady bright, 

I have brought ye new delight ; 

Here behold, so goodly grown, 

Three fair branches of your own ; 

Heaven hath timely tried their youth, 

Their faith, their patience, and their truth, 

And sent them here through hard assays 
With a crown of deathless praise, 

To triumph in victorious dance 
O'er sensual folly and intemperance. 

[The dances ended, the Spirit epiloguis^.] 
SPIRIT. 

To the ocean now I fly, 2 
And those happy climes that lie 
Where day never shuts his eye, 
Up in the broad fields of the sky * 
There I suck the liquid air 
All amidst the gardens fair 
Of Hesperus, and his daughters three, 
That sing about the golden tree : 
Along the crisped shades and bowers 
Bevels the spruce and jocund Spring, 
The Graces, and the rosy-bosomed Hours, 
Thither all then bounties bring : 
There eternal Summer dwells, 
And west winds, with musky wing, 
About the cedarn alleys fling 
Nard and cassia's balmy smells. 
Iris there with humid bow 
Waters the odorous banks, that blov 

* Pf/stures, corn-fields. 

" A paraphrase of Ariel's song in the " Tempest : 

" "Where the bee sucks, there lark I." 



4 



4* 



-*<?>► 



994-io2 3 . COMUS. 473 

Flowers of more mingled hue 
Than her purfled 1 scarf can she it, 
And drenches with Elysian dew 
{List, mortals, if your ears he true) 
Beds of hyacinth and roses, 
Where young Adonis oft reposes, 
Waxing well of his deep wound 
In slumber soft, and on the ground 
Sadly sits the Assyrian queen; 2 
But far above, in spangled sheen, 
Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced 
Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced, 
After her wandering labours long, 
Till free consent the gods among 
Make her his eternal bride, 
And from her fair unspotted side 
Two blissful twins are to be born, 
Youth and Joy ; so Jove hath sworn. 

But now my task is smoothly done ; 
I can fly, or I can run 
Quickly to the green earth's end, 
Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend, 
And from thence can soar as soon 
To the corners of the moon. 

Mortals, that would follow me, 
Love Virtue ; she alone is free : 
She can teach ye how to climb 
Higher than the sphery chime; 
Or, if Virtue feeble were, 
Heaven itself would stoop to her.^ 

1 Flourished, embroided with the needle. 

2 Venus, so called, because she was first worshipped by the Assy 
nans. 

3 " Comus," observes Hallam, " was sufficient to convince any one oi 
taste and feeling, that a great poet had arisen in England, and one 
partly formed in a different school from his contemporaries. Many 
of them had produced highly beautiful and imaginative passages ; but 
none had evinced so classical a judgment, none had aspired to so 
regular a perfection. Jonson had learned much from the ancientSj 
but there was a grace in their best models which he did not quite 
ftttain. Neither his ' Sad Shepherd,' nor the ' Faithful Shepherdess ' 
of Fletcher, have the elegance or dignity of ' Comus.' A noble virgin 
and her young brothers, by whom this masque was originally repre- 
sented, required an elevation, a purity, a sort of severity of sentiment 
which no one in that age could have given but Milton. He avoided, 
»nd nothing loth, the more festive notes which dramatic poetry was 



4- 



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474 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



XVII, 

LYCIDAS.* 

[In this nionody the author bewails a learned friend, Mr. Edwaid King 
who was unfortunately drowned in his passage from Chester en the 
Irish seas, 1837, and by occasion foretels the ruiri of our corrupted 
clergy, then in their height.] 

Yet once more, ye laurels ! and once more 
Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, 
I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, 
And with forced fingers rude 
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 
Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, 
Compels me to disturb your season due; 
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, 
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : 
Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew 
Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 
He must not float upon his watery bier 
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, 
Without the meed of some melodious tear. 

wont to mingle with its serious strain. But for this he was eompefc 
sated by the brightest hues of fancy, and the sweetest melody of song 
In ' Comus ' we find nothing prosaic or feeble, no false taste in the 
incidents, and not much in the language, nothing over which we 
should desire to pass on a second perusal. The want of what we may 
call personality, none of the characters having names, except Comus 
\imself, who is a very indefinite being, and the absence of all positive 
attributes of time and place, enhance the ideality of the fiction by a 
certain indistinctness not unpleasing to the imagination." 

1 " It has been said, I think very fairly, that Lycidas is a good test 
of real feeling for what is peculiarly called poetry. Many, or perhaps 
we might say most readers, do not taste its excellence ; nor does it 
follow that they may not greatly admire Pope and Dryden, or even 
Virgil and Homer. It is, however,, somewhat remarkable, that John- 
son, who has committed his critical reputation by the most contemp- 
tuous depreciation of this poem, had, in an earlier part of his life, 
selected the tenth Eclogue of Virgil for peculiar praise; the tenth 
Eclogue, which, beai^-iful as it is, belongs to the same class of pastoral 

^ ^4 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 475 

Begin then, sisters, of the sacred well, 1 
That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring . 
Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string 
Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse, 
So may some gentle muse 
With lucky words favour my destined urn. 
And, as he 2 passes, turn 
And hid fair peace be to my sable shroud: 
For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, 
Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rili. 

Together both, ere the high lawns appeared 
Under the opening eyelids of the morn, 
We drove afield, and both together heard 
What time the gray fly winds her sultry horn, 
Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night, 
Oft till the star that rose, at evening, bright, 
Toward Heaven's descent had sloped his westering 3 whee 
Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, 
Tempered to the oaten flute ; 
Rough satyrs danced, and fauns with cloven heel 
From the glad sound would not be absent long, 
And old Damsetas 4 loved to hear our song. 

But oh, the heavy change, now thou art gone, 
Now thou art gone, and never must return ! 
Thee, shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves 
With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, 
And all their echoes mourn. 
The willows, and the hazel copses green, 

and personal allegory, and requires the same sacrifice of reasoning 
criticism, as the Lycidas itself. In the age of Milton, the poetical 
world had been accustomed by the Italian and Spanish writers to a 
more abundant use of allegory than has been pleasing to their pos- 
terity ; but Lycidas is not so much in the nature of an allegory as of a 
masque ; the characters pass before our eyes in imagination, as on the 
stage ; they are chiefly mythological, but not creations of the poet. 
Our sympathy with the fate of Lycidas may not be much stronger 
than for the desertion of Gallus by his mistress; but many poems 
will yield an exquisite pleasure to the imagination that produce no 
emotion in the heart; or none at least, except through associations 
independent of the subject." — Hallam. 

1 Fountain. 

2 So the muse is made masculine in Samson Agonistes, ver. 973. 
1 Drawing towards the west. 

1 He probably means Dr. William Chappel, who had been tutor tc 
vhem both and afterwards beoame Bishop of Cork and Rosa, 



<4>- 



X 



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476 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 

Shall now no more be seen, 

Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. 

As killing as the canker to the rose, 

Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze, 

Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear, 

When first the white-thorn blows , 

Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherds' ear. 

Where were ye, nymphs, when the remorseless deep 
Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas ? 
For neither were ye playing on the steep, 
Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie; 
Nor on the shaggy top of Mona 1 high, 
Nor yet where Deva a spreads her wizard stream : 
Ay me ! I fondly dream 

Had ye been there, for what could that have done? 
What could the muse herself that Orpheus bore, 
The muse herself for her enchanting son, 
Whom universal nature did lament, 
When by the rout that made the hideous roar, 
His gory visage down the stream was sent, 
Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore ? 

Alas ! what boots it with incessant care 
To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade, 
And strictly meditate the thankless muse ? 
Were it not better done as others use, 
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, 
Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair? 
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 
(That last infirmity of noble mind) 
To scorn delights, and live laborious days, 
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, 
And think to burst out into sudden blaze, 
Comes the blind fury with the abhorred shears, 
And slits the thin-spun life. " But not the praise," 
Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears ; 
" Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, 
Nor in the glistering foil 
Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, 
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, 
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; 
As he pronounces lastly on each deed, 
Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed." 

1 The Isle of Anglesea. 

f TKe River Pea The word Deva is supposed to mean fHvinr. 



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*4^ 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 477 

O fountain Arethuse, 1 and thou honoured flood, 
Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, 
That strain I heard was of a higher mood : 
But now my oat proceeds, 
And listens to the herald of the sea 
That came in Neptune's plea ; 
He asked the waves, and asked the felon winds, 
JVhat hard mishap had doomed this gentle swain? 
And questioned every gust of rugged wings, 
That blows from off each beaked promontory: 
They knew not of his story, 
And sage Hippotades 2 their answer brings, 
That not a blast was from his dungeon strayed, 
The air was calm, and on the level brine 
Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. 
It was that fatal and perfidious bark 
Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, 
That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. 

Next Camus, 3 reverend sire, went footing slow, 
His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, 
Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge, 
Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe. 4 
" Ah ! who hath reft," quoth he, " my dearest pledge ? " 
Last came, and last did go, 
The pilot of the Galilean lake, 5 

1 Now Phoebus, whose strain was of a higher mood, has done speak- 
ing, he invokes the fountain Arethuse of Sicily, the country of Theocri- 
tus, and Mincius, the river of Mantua, Virgil's country, in compliment 
to those poets. 

2 iEolus, the son of Hippotas. 

8 The Cam, the river of Cambridge. 

4 Meaning the hyacinth, the leaves of which were supposed to be 
marked with the mournful letters At, At. Cf. Ovid, Met. x. 210 sqq. 

5 " The introduction of St. Peter after the fabulous deities of the 
&ea, has appeared an incongruity deserving of censure to some ad- 
mirers of this poem. It would be very reluctantly that we could 
abandon to this criticism the most splendid passage it presents. But 
the censure rests, as I think, on too narrow a principle. In narrative 
or dramatic poetry, where something like illusion or momentary 
belief is to be produced, the mind requires an objective possibility, a 
capacity of real existence, not only in all the separate portions of the 
imagined story, but in their coherency and relation to a common 
whole. Whatever is obviously incongruous, whatever shocks our 
previous knowledge of possibility, destroys, to a certain extent, that 
acquiescence in the fiction which it is the true business of the fiction 
to produce. But the case is not the same in such poems as Lycidas. 
1 hey pretend to no credibility, they aim at no illusion, they are read 



4 



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4 



4:; 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



Two massy keys lie bore, of metals twain 

(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain), 

He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake : 

" How well could I have spared for thee, young swain, 

Enow of such as for their bellies' sake 

Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold ! 

Of other care they little reckoning make, 

Than how to scramble at the shearer's feast, 

And shove away the worthy bidden guest ; 

Blind mouths ! that scarce themselves know how to hold 

A sheep-hook, or have learned aught else the least 

That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs ! 

What recks it them ? What need they? They are sped j 

And when they list, their lean and flashy songs 

Grate on their scrannel 1 pipes of wretched straw; 

The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, 

But swollen with wind, and the rank mist they draw, 

Hot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : 

Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw 

Daily devours apace, and nothing said. 

But that two-handed engine at the door 

Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more." 

Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past, 
That shrunk thy streams; retiun Sicilian muse, 
And call the vales, and bid them hither cast 
Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues 
Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use 
Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, 
On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, 
Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, 
That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, 
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, 
The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, 
The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, 
The glowing violet, 

with the willing abandonment of the imagination to a waking dream, 
and require only that general possibility, that combination of imager 
which common experience does not, reject as incompatible, without 
which the fancy of the poet would be only like that of the lunatic. 
A.nd it had been so usual to blend sacred with mythological person- 
ages in allegory, that no one, probably, in Milton's age, would have 
*een struck by the objection." — Hall-am. 
i Probably equivalent to the. Latin " stridens," creaking, piercing. 



<$y 



ih 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 479 

The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, 

With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 

And every flower that sad embroidery wears: 

Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, 

And daffodillies fill their cnps with tears, 

To strow the laureate hearse where Lycid lies. 

For so to interpose a little ease, 

Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. 

Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas 

Wash far away, where ere thy bones are hurled, 

Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, 

Where thou, perhaps, under the whelming tide 

Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world ; 

Or whether thou to our moist vows denied, 

Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus 1 old, 

Where the great vision of the guarded mount 

Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's 2 hold; 

Look homeward, angel now, and melt with ruth.:*- 

And, O ye dolphins, 4 waft the hapless youth. 

Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, 
For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, 
Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor; 
So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, 
And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 
And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore 
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky : 
So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, 
Through the dear might of him that walked the waves, 
Where other groves and other streams along, 
With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 
And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 
In the blest kingdoms meek of joy md love. 
There entertain him all the saints above, 
In solemn troops, and sweet societies, 
That sing, and singing in their glory move. 
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. 

1 Probably Bellerus, one of tha Cornish giants, fabulously sup 
pored to dwell at the Land's End. 

2 A watch-tower and lighthouse formerly stood on the promontory 
railed the Land's End, and looked, as Orosius says, towards another 
high tower at Brigantia in G&llieia, and consequently towards Bau 
em's Hold. — Newton. 

» Pity. 

* A dolphin is said to have carried the body of Pnlasmon to the t'hoio 
of Corinth, where he vw* deified. 



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4 8o MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more; 
Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore, 
In thy large recompense, and shalt he good 
To all that wander in that perilous flood. 

Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and ri!i*j. 
While the still morn went out with sandals gray , 
He touched the tender stops of various quills, 
With eager thought warbling his Doric lay : 
And now the sun had stretched out all the hilli^ 
And now was dropped into the western bay ; 
Ai last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue . 
To morrow totfresh woods, and pastures new J 



XVIII. 

THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE, Lie, I. 

[ s< Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa," rendered almost word foi 
word without rhyme, according to the Latin measure, as near ai 
the language will permit.] 

What slender youth, bedewed with liquid odours, 
Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave, 

Pyrrha ? For whom bind'st thou 

In wreaths thy golden hair, 
Plain in thy neatness ? Oh, how oft shall he 
On faith and changed gods complain, and seas 

Eough with black winds and storms 

Unwonted shall admire ! 
Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold ; 
Who always vacant, always amiable s 

Hopes thee, of flattering gales 

Unmindful. Hapless they 
To whom thou untried seem'st fair. Me in my vw«d 
Picture the sacred wall declares to have hung 

My dank and dropping weai'to 

To the stern god of sqa 



POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 481 

AD IYRRHAM. ODE V. 

HutuLluJi m rynliaa illecebris tanquam enauftagio enutaverat, tumi 
amore irretitos, affirmat esse miseros. 

Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa 
Perfusus liguidis urget ocloribus, 

Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro ? 

Cui flavani religas comaui 
Simplex inundiths ? heu quoties fidem 
Mutatosque deos flebit, et aspera 

Nigris sequora veutls 

Emirabitur insolens ! 
Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aiirea, 
Qui semper vacuam semper amabiJem 

Sperat, nescius aurce 

Fallacis. Miseri quibu3 
Intentata nites. Me tabula sacer 
Vofciva paries indicat uvida 

Suspendisse potenti 

Vestimenta maris Deo. 



XDC. 

6K 1HE NEW FOBCEE3 OF CONSCIENCE UNDElf 
THE LONG PAELIAMENT. 

Because you bare thrown oft your prelate lord, 
And with stiff vows renounced his liturgy, 
To seize the widowed whore Plurality 
From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorred, 

Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword 
To force our consciences that Christ set frep, 
And ride us with a classic hierarchy 
Taught ye by mere A. S. and Bother-ford ? 

Men whose life, learning, faith, and pine intent 
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul, 
Must now be named and printed heretics 

By shallow Edwards 1 and Scotch what d'ye call: 2 

1 The author of the Gangrana (published in 1646), or <: a Catalognti 
i'jfld Discovery of many of the errors, heresies, and blasphemies, ana 
pernicious practices of the sectaries of this time, vented and acted in 
England in these, four last years."— Thyer. 

2 Possibly the famous Alexander Henderson, or George Gillespie.', 
«: Scotch minister and commissioner at Westminster.— Newtun. 



4- 



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482 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

But we do hope to find out all your tricks, 
Your plots and packing worse than those of TrenP, 
That so the Parliament 
May, with their wholesome and preventive shears, 
Clip youi phylacteries, though hauk your ears, 1 

And succour our just fears, 
When they shall read this clearly in your charge, 
New Preshyter is out Old Priest xrit large. 

* He alludes to Prynne, who had been sentenced to have his efiW 
*« ip# ad, and was afterwards sente/iced to lose the rest of them. 



& 



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■BMttS. 



TO TEE NIGHTIE 3 ALU. 

O NiauriNGALE, that on yon bloomy spray 
VVarblest at eve, when all the woods are still, 
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill. 
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. 

Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, 
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, 
Portend success in love ; oh, if Jove's will 
Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay. 

Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate 

Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigli ; 
As though from year to year hast sung too late 

For my relief, yet hadst no reason why . 

Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his niato 
Both them I serve, and of their train am I. 

II. 

Donna loggiadra il eui bel nome honora 
L' herbosa val di Eheno, e il nobil vareo 
Bene e colui d' ogni valore scarco 
Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamortk 

Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora 
De sui atti soavi giamai parco, 
E i don', che son d'amor saette ed areo. 
La cnde 1' alta tua virtu s' infiora. 

Quaudo tu vaga parli, o lieta canti 
Che mover possa duro alpestre legno, 
Quardi ciascun a gii occhi, ed a gli owaelv 

I I 



<T 



4S4 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

L'entrata, chi di te si truova indegno; 
Grazia sola di su gli vaglia, inanti 
Ohe 1 disio amoros^ al cuor s' inveeeM 

JII. 

Qual in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera 
L' avezza giovinetta pastorella 
Va bagnando l'herbetta strana e bella 
Che mal si spande a disusata spera 

Fuor di sua natia alma piimavera, 
Cosi Amor meco insu la lingua snelln, 
Desta il nor novo di strania favella, 
Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera, 

Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso, 
E '1 bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno. 
Amor lo volse, ed io a 1' altrui peso 

Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indarno 
JDeh ! foss' il mio cuor lento e'l duro se^o 
A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terrene 



CANZONE. 

Ridonsi donne e giovani amorosi 
M' accostandosi attorno, e perche scrivi, 
Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e Strang 
Verseggiando d' amor, e come t' osi ? 
Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana, 
E de pensieri lo miglior t' arrivi ; 
Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi 
Altri lidi t' aspettan, et afire onde 
Nelle cui verdi sponde 
Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma 
L' immortal guiderdon d' eterne frondi; 
Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma ? 
Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi 
Dice mia Donna, e '1 suo dir, e il mio cuore 
Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore. 

IV. 

Diodati, e te'l diro con maiaviglia, 
Quel ritroso io ch' amor spreggiar solea 
E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridea 
Oia caddi, ov'brom dabben talhor s' jmpig]?,-? 



•^ 



ih 



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SONNETS. 

Ne treccie a oro, ne guancia vermigiia 
M' abbaglian si, ma sotto nova idea 
Pellegrina bellezza che' 1 cuor bea, 
Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglj pv 

Quel sereno fulgor d' amabil aero, 
Parole a dome di lingua piu d' una, 
E 1 cantar che di mezzo 1' hemispero 

Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna, 
E degli occhi suoi auventa si gran fuoe? 
Che T incerar gli orecchi mi fia poco, 

Vi 

Per certo i bei vostr' occhi, Donna mia 
Esser non puo che non sian lo mio solo 
Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole 
Per 1 arene di Libia chi s' invia, 

Mentre un caldo vapor (ne senti pria) 
Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole, 
Che forse amanti nelle lor parole 
Chiaman sospir ; io non so che si sia : 

Parte rinchiusa, e turbicla si cela 

Scosso mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco 
Quivi d' attorno o s' agghiaccia, o s' ingiela, 

Ma quanto a gli ocohi giunge a trovar loco 
Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose 
Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose. 

VI 

Gjovane piano, e semplicetto amante. 
Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono, 
Madonna a voi del mio cuor 1' humil dono 
Faro divoto; io certo a prove tante 

L' hebbi fedele, intrepiclo, costante, 

De pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono j 
Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuono, 
S' arma di se, e d' intero diamante ; 

Tanto del forse, e d' inviclia sicuro, 
Di timori, e speranze al popol use 
Quanto d' ingegno, e d' alto valor vago, 
E di cetra sonora, e delle muse : 
Sol troverete in tal parte men fturj 

Ove Amor mise l'insanabil ago. 



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i 



4S6 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

VII. 

ON HIS BEING ARKIVED AT THE AGE OV 

TWENTY-THEEE. 1 

How goon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, 
Stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year! 
My hasting days fly on with full career, 
But my late spring no bnd or blossom shew'th 

Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, 
That I to manhood am arrived so near, 
And inward ripeness doth much less appear, 
That some more timely-happy spirits endu'tb 

Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, 
It shall be still in strictest measure even 
To that same lot, however mean or high, 

Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven; 
All is, if I have grace to use it so, 
As ever in my great Task Master's eye. 



VIII. 
WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE CITtf, 

Captain or colonel, or knight in arms, 

Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, 

If deed of honour did thee ever please, 

Guard them, and him within protect from harms. 

He can requite thee, for he knows the charms 
That call fame on such gentle acts as these, 
And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas, 
Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. 

lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower : 
The great Emathian conqueror 2 bid spare 
The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower 

Went to the ground : and the repeated air 
Of sad Electra's poet 3 had the power 
To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare. 

1 Written in 1631. 2 Alexander the Great. 

3 Sophocles. It is said that the repetition of some verses from hit; 
" Electra " inspired the Athenians to resist an attempt made by Lysan- 
Jer to change the government, reduce the Athenians to slavery, am] 
desolate ttvi mtf. 

+$^4 — — — ■ »"67* 



4* 



SONNETS. 487 

IX. 

TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY, 

L/dy, that in the prime of earliest youth 
Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the gwo'-a, 
And with those few art eminently seen, 
That labour up the hill of heavenly truth, 

The better part with Mary and with Euth 
Chosen thou hast; and they that overween, 
And at their growing virtues fret their spleen, 
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. 

Thy care is fixed, and zealously attends 

To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, 

And hope that reaps not shame Therefore be sur»i 

Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends 
Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night, 
Hath gained thy entrance, virgin wise and purr.. 



X. 

TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY. 

Daughter to that good earl, 1 once President 
Of England's Council, and her Treasury, 
"Who lived in both, unstained with gold or fee. 
And left them loth, more in himself content, 

Till sad the breaking of that Parliament 
Broke him, as that dishonest victory 
At Chseronea. fatal to liberty, 
Killed with report that old man eloquent. 

Though later born than to have known the day? 
"Wherein your father flourished, yet by you, 
Madam, methinks I see him living yet; 

^0 well your words his noble virtues praise, 
That all both judge you to relate them time, 
A. ad to possess them, honoured Margaret. 

1 Sir James Ley, afterwards made Earl of Marlborough; and »<n>4 
to the highest offices in the state. 



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K 

488 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

XL 

ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON MY 

WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES." 

•A book was writ of late, called " Tetrachordon," 
And woven close, both matter, form, and style ; 
The subject new : it walked the town a while, 
Numbering good intellects; now seldom pored on. 

Cries the stall-reader, Bless us ! what a word on 
A title-page is this ! and some in file 
Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile* 
End Green. Why is it harder, sirs, than Gordon, 

Colkitto, or Macdormel, or Galasp ? 2 
Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek, 
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. 

Thy age, like ours, soul of Sir John Cheek, 3 
Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, 
When thou taught'st Cambridge, and king Edward, 
Greek. 

XII. 
ON THE SAME. 

1 did but prompt the age to quit their clogs 
By the known rules of ancient liberty, 
When straight a barbarous noise environs rr.t) 
Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs : 

As when those hinds that were transformed to frog.v' 

Railed at Latona's twin-born progeny, 

Which after held the sun and moon in fee. 

But this is got by casting pearl to hogs, 
That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, 

And still revolt when truth would set them free. 

License they mean when they cry " Liberty!" 
For who loves that, must first be wise and good ; 

But from that mark how far they rove we see 

For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood. 

2 Viz,, those upon divorce, in which he gave great offonea to iiu 
Presbyterian clergy. 

2 Probably some ministers who opposed him. 

3 The first professor of Greek in the University of Cambridge. 

4 The Lyciau shepherds, who were chanced into frogs. — Ovid, Me). 
it Mi. 4. 



$» 



4" 



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SONNETS. $) 

XIII, 
TO ME. H. LAWES 1 ON HIS AIRS. 

Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song 
First taught our English music how to span 
Words with just note and accent, not to scai 
With Midas' ears, committing short and long ; 

Ihy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, 
With praise enough for envy to look wan ; 
To after age thou shalt be writ the man, 
That with smooth air couldst humour best our tongue 

Thou honour'st verse, and verse must lend her wing 
To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire, 
That tun'st their happiest lines in hymn or story 

Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher 
Than his Casella, whom he wooed to sing 
Met in the milder shades of purgatory 2 



XIV. 

>N THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF MRS. CATHARINE 
THOMSON, MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND. 
Deceased lQth December, 1646. 

When faith and love, which parted from thee never, 
Had ripened thy just soul to dwell with God, 
Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load 
Of death, called life ; which us from life doth sevsr. 

Thy works and alms and all thy good endeavour 
Stayed not behind, nor in the grave were trod; 
But as faith pointed with her golden rod, 
Followed thee up to joy and bliss for ever. 

Love led them on, and faith, who knew them best 
Thy handmaids, clad them o'er with purple beamy 
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, 

And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes 
Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee re si 
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams. . 

1 See notes on " Comus." 

2 See tb.e second canto of Dante's <; Purgatory." 



*T 4* 



&4 ->{jj» 

490 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

XV 
TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX.* 

Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings, 
Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, 
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze 
And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings, 

Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings 

Victory home, though new rebellions raise 
Their Hydra heads, and the false north displays 
Her broken league to imp their serpent wings 

Oh ! yet a nobler task awaits thy hand 

(For what can war but endless war still breed ?) 
Till truth and right from violence be freed, 

And public faith cleared from the shameful brand 
Of public fraud. In vain doth valour bleed, 
While avarice and rapine share the land. 



XVI. 
£0 THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL. 

Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud 
Not of war only, but detractions rude, 
Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, 
To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed, 

And on the neck of crowned fortune proud 

Hast reared God's trophies, and his work pursued, 
While Darwen stream 2 with blood of Scots imbnied 
And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud, 

And Worcester's laureate wreath. Yet much remains 
To conquer still ; peace hath her victories 
No less renowned than war : new foes arise 

Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains : 
Help us to save free conscience from the paw 
Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their maw. 

{ The three following poems are not, for obvious reasons, found lx 
the editions of Milton published during the reign of Charles II. 
* Neat Preston, in Lancashire. 

t4 — — ►$♦ 



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SONNETS. 49 J 

XVI. 
TO SIR HENKY VANE THE YOUNGER. 

Vane, young in years, but in sage counsel old, 
Than whom a better senator ne'er held 
The helm of Rome, when gowns not arms repelled 
The fierce Epirot and the African bold ; 

Whether to settle peace, or to unfold 
The drift of hollow states hard to be spelled, 
Then to advise how war may bust upheld 
Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold, 

In all her equipage ; besides to know 
Both spiritual power and civil, what each means, 
What severs each, thou hast learned, which few have 

The bounds of either sword to thee we owe ; [dono : 

Therefore, on thy firm hand religion leans 
In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son. 



XVII. 
ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEMONT.* 

Avenge, Lord! thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold ; 
Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, 
When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, 

Forget not : in thy book record their groans 
Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fcld 
Slain by the bloody Piemontese that rolled 
Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans 

* Probably written in 1655. Newton observes : "This prayer, in behali 
nt the persecuted Protestants, was not entirely without effect. For 
Cromwell exerted himself in their favour, and his behaviour in this 
"/hole transaction is greatly to his honour, even as it is related by an 
historian, who was far from being partial to his memory. ' Nor wovl>\ 
the Protector be back-ward in such a work, which might give the worll 
»i particular opinion of his piety and zeal for the Protestant religion , 
but he proclaimed a solemn fast, and caused large contributions to be 
gathered for them throughout the kingdom of England and Wales. 
Nor did he rest here, but sent his agents to the Duke of Savoy, a 
prince with whom he had no correspondence or commerce, and the 
next year so engaged the Cardinal of France, and even terrified th; 
Pope himself, without, so much as doing any favour to the Englis.- 



^>h 



*€H — — *df* 

492 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
To Heaven. Theii martyred blood and ashes sow 
O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway 

The triple tyrant; that from these may grow 
A hundredfold, who having learned thy way 
Early may fly the Babylonian woe. 



XIX. 
ON HIS BLINDNESB. 

When 1 consider how my light is spent 
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide ; 
And that one talent which is death to hide, 1 
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 

To serve therewith my Maker, and present 
My true account, lest he returning chide; 
Doth. God exact day-labour, light denied, 
I fondly ask ? But Patience, to prevent 

That murmur, soon replies, God doth not seed 
Either man's work or his own gifts; who best 
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best : his state 

Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed, 
And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 
They also serve who only stand and wait. 



XX. 

TO ME. LAWRENCES 

Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, 
Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire» 
Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire 
Help waste a sullen day, what may be won 

Roman Catholics, that that Duke thought it necessary to restore all 
that he had taken from them, and renewed all those privileges they 
had formerly enjoyed — so great was the terror of his name ; nothing 
being more usual than his saying that his ships in the Mediterranean 
should visit Civita Vecchia, and the sound of hid c&nsion should be 
heard in Rome.' — See E chard, vol. 2." 

1 A.n allusion to the parable in Matthew xxv. 

8 .Son of the president of Cromwell's council. 



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SONNETS. 



4?: 



From the hard season gaining ? Time will ran 
On smoother, till Favonius 1 re-inspire 
The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire 
The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor sputi: 

What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, 
Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise 
To hear the lute well touched, or artful Toice 

Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air? 

He who of those delights can judge, and spare 
To interpose them oft, is not unv/ise 



XXI. 
TO CYRIAC SKINNER* 

Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench 
Of British Themis, with no mean applause 
Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our lawb, 
Which others at their bar so often wrench ; 

To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench 
In mirth, that after no repenting draws; 
Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause, 
And what the Swede intends, 3 and what the French/ 

To measure life learn thou betimes, and know 
Toward solid good what leads the nearest way 
For other things mild Heaven a time ordains, 

And disapproves that care, though wise in show, 
That with superfluous burden loads the day, 
And. when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains. 



XXII. 

TO THE SAME. 

oyriac, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, 
To outward view, of blemish or of spot, 
Bereft of light their seeing have forgot, 
Nor to then idle orbs doth -sight appear 

t. v., Zephyr, the spring western wind. 
5 Son of "William Skinner, by Bridget, daughter of Lord C ofce,an<3 
I, distinguished member of Harrington'? political club. 
J i. e., Charles Qustavus, who was then waging war with Polan.l, 
* The French were then »vt war hi the Netherlands. 



4. 



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494 MIL TON y S FOE TICAL WORKS. 

Of sun, or moon, or star throughout the year, 
Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not 
Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot 
Of heart or hope ; Lut still bear up, and steer 

Bight onward. What supports me, dost thou ask? 
The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied 
In liberty's defence, my noble task, 

Of which all Europe talks from side to side. {mash 

This thought might lead me through the world's vajr 
Content, though blind, had I no better guide. 



XXIII 
ON HiS DECEASED WIFE. 

Methought I saw my late espoused saint 
Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave, 
Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, 
Rescued from death by force, though pale and fadrt 

Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint 
Purification in the old law did save ; 
And such, as yet cnce more I trust to have 
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, 

Came vested all in white, pure as her mind : 
Her face was veiled, yet to my fancied sight 
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shine*! 

3o clear, as in no face with more delight. 
But oh S as to embrace me she inclined, 

I waked, she fled, and day brought back my nigM 



J* . ^ — ->«$>♦ 



sxlms. 



PSALM I. 

Done into Vepse, 1653. 

Blessed is the man who hatti not walked astrivy 
In council of the wicked, and i' the way 
Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat 
Of scorners hath not sat. But in the great 
Jehovah's law is ever his delight, 
And in his law he studies day and night. 
He shall be as a tree which planted grows 
By watery streams, and in his season knows 
To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall, 
And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 
Not so the wicked, hut as chaff which fanned 
The wind chives, so the wicked shall not stand 
In judgment, or abide their trial then, 
Nor sinners in the assembly of just men 
For the Lord knows the upright way of the just , 
And the way of bad men to ruin must. 



PSALM II. 

Done August 8, 165U 

TerzeUe. 

Wh¥ do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations 
Muse a vain thing, the kings of the earth upstand 
With power, and princes in their congregations 

lay deep their mots together through each lard 

^ — , . *^4 



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496 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



Against the Lord and his Messiah dear ? 

Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand 
their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear, 

Their twisted cords : he who in Heaven doth dwel. 

Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then sever a 
^peak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 

And fierce ire trouble them ; but I, saith he, 

Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) 
On Sion my holy hill. A firm decree 

I will declare . the Lord to me hath said, 

Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee 
This day; ask of me, and the grant Is made 

As thy possession I on thee bestow 

TJie Heathen, and as thy conquest to V»e swayed 
Earth's utmost bounds : them shalt thou bringfull low 

With iron sceptre bruised, and them disperse 

Like to a potter's vessel shivered so. 
And now be wise at length, ye kings averse ; 

Be taught, ye judges of the earth ; with fear 

Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse 
With trembling ; kiss the Son, lest he appear 

In anger, and ye perish in the way, 

If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere. 
Happy all those who have in him their stay 



-r 



TSALM III. 

August 9, 1653. 

When he fled from Ab$aloi»,. 

Lo rd, how many are my foes! 
How many those 
That in arms against me rise . 
Many are they 
That of my life distrustfully thus say, 
No help for him in God there lies. 
Bat thou, Lord, art my shield, my glory 
Thee through my story 
The exalter of my head I count; 
Aloud I cried 
Unto Jehovah, he full soon replied, 
And ^eard me from his boly mount. 



— $• 



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PSALMS. 497 

\ i ay and slept, I waked again; 
For my sustain 
Was the Lord. Of many millions 
The populous rout 
I fear not, though encamping round about 
They pitch against mo their pavilions. 
Rise, Lord, save me, my God, for thou 
Hast smote ere now 
On the cheek-bone all my foes, 
Of men abhorred 
Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lor<t 
rhy blessing on thy people flows. 



PSALM IV. 

August 10, 1653. 

Answer me when I call, 
God of my righteousness, 
In straits and in distress 
Thou didst me disenthral 
And set at large ; now spare, 
Now pity me, and hear my earnest prayer. 

Great ones, how long will ye 
My glory have in scorn, 
How long be thus forborne 
Still to love vanity, 
To love, to seek, to prize 
Things false and vain, and nothing else but lie?'"' 

Yet know the Lord hath chose, 
Chose to himself apart, 
The good and meek of heart 
(For whom to choose he knows) ; 
Jehovah from on high 
Will hear my voice what time to him I cif?. 

Be awed, and do not sin, 
Speak to your hearts alone, 
Upon your beds, each one, 
And be at peace within. 
Offer the offerings just 
Of righteousness, and in Jehovah foist 



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4 



49S MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Many there he that say, 
Who yet will show us good ? 
Talking like this world's hrood ; 
3ut, Lord, thus let me pray, 
On us lift up the light, 

Lift up the favour of thy countenance bright 

Into my heart more joy 
And gladness thou hast put, 
That when a year of glut 
Th eir stores doth over-cloy, 
&nd from their plenteous grounds 
With vast increase their corn and wine abound. 

In peace at onco will I 
Both lay me down and sleep, 
For thou alone dost keep 
Me safe where'er I lie : 
\s in a rocky cell 
Thou, Lord, alone in safety raak'st me d^ell. 



PSALM V. 

August 12, 1653. 

Jehovah, to my "wolds give ear, 
My meditation weigh ; 
The voice of my complaining hear, 
Ay King and God ; for unto thee I pray. 
Jehovah, thou my early vojce 
Shalt in the morning hear, 
I' the morning I to thee with choice 
Will rank my prayers, and watch till thou anpe» 
For thou art not a God that takes 

In wickedness delight, 
Evil with thee no hiding makes, 
Fools rr mad men stand not within thy mqht 
All workers of iniquity 

Thouhat'st; and them unblest 
Thou wilt destroy that speak a lie; 
The bloody and guileful man God doth detest. 
But I will in thy mercies dear, 
Thy numerous mercies, gc 



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PSALMS. 



499 



Into thy house ; 1 in thy fear 
Will towards thy holy temple worship low. 
Lord, lead me in thy righteousness, 

Lead me because of those 
That do observe if I transgress; 
Set thy ways right before, where my step goes. 
For in his faltering mouth unstable 

No word is firm or sooth ; 
Their inside, troubles miserable ; 
An open grave their throat, their tongue they smocth, 
God, find them guilty, let them fall 

By their own counsels quelled ; 
Push them in their rebellions all 
Still on ; for against thee they have rebelled. 
Then all who trust in thee shall bring 

Their joy ; while thou from blame 
Defend'st them, they shall ever sing 
And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name 
For thou, Jehovah, wilt be found 

To bless the just man still ; 
As with a shield thou wilt surround 
Him with thy lasting favour and good will 



PSALM VI. 
August 13, 1653. 

Lord, in thine anger do not reprehend me, 
Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct; 
Pity me, Lord, for I am much deject, 

Am very weak and faint ; heal and amend me: 

For all my bones, that even with anguish ache. 
Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore, 
And thou, Lord, how long ? turn, Lord, re3iorr 

My soul; oh, save me for thy goodness sake: 

For in death no remembrance is of thee ; 
Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise ? 
Wearied T am with sighing out my days, 

Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea ; 

My bed I water with my tears ; mine eye 
Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dar!< 
I' the midst of all mine enemies that mark. 

Depart all ye that ^ovk iniquity, 



A. 



4< — & 

500 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



Depart from me ; for the voice of my weeping 
The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my \ rayer, 
My supplication with acceptance fair 

The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 

Mine enemies shall all be blank and dashed 

With much confusion ; then grown red with sham* 
They shall return in haste the way they came, 

And in a moment shall be quite abashed" 



4J> 



PSALM VII, 
August 14, 160-3. 

Upon the Winds of Chush the Benjamile against him* 

Lord, my God, to thee I fly ; 
Save me and secure me under 
Thy protection while I cry, 
Lest as a lion (and no wonder) 
He haste to tear my soul asunder, 
Tearing and no rescue nigh. 

Lord, my God, if I have thought 
Or done this ; if wickedness 
Be in my hands, if 1 have wrought 
111 to him that meant me peace, 
Or to him have rendered less, 
And not freed my foe for nought; 

Let the enemy pursue my soul 
And overtake it; let him tread 
My life down to the earth, and roll 
In the dust my glory dead, 
In the dust ; and, there outspread, 
Lodge it with dishonour foul. 

Rise, Jehovah, in thine ire, 
Bouse thyself amidst the rage 
Of my foes that urge like lire ; 
And wake for me, their fury assuagv ; 
Judgment here thou didst engage 
And command, which I desire 

So the assemblies of each nation 
Will surround thee, eeeking right 



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PSALMS. 501 

Thence to thy glorious habitation 
Return on high, and in their sight. 
Jehovah judge th most upright 
All people from the world's foundation. 

Judge me, Lord, be judge in this 
According to my righteousness, 
And the innocence which is 
Upon me : cause at length to cease 
Of evil men the wickedness 
And their power that do amiss. 

But the just establish fast, 

Since thou art the just God that tries 

Hearts and reins. On God is cast 

My defence, and in him lies, 

In him who both just and wise 

Saves the upright of heart at last, 

God is a just judge and severe, 

And God is every day offended ; 

If the unjust will not forbear, 

His sword he whets, his bow hath bended 

Already, and for liim intended 

The tools of death, that waits him near 

(His arrows purposely made lie 
For them that persecute.) Behold 
He travels big with vanity, 
Trouble he hath conceived of old 
As in a womb, and from that mould 
Hath at length brought forth a lie. 

He digged a pit, and delved it deep, 

And fell into the jiit he made ; 

His mischief that due course doth Keep, 

Turns on his head, and his ill tiade 

Of violence will, undelaycd, 

Fall on his crown with ruin steep. 

Then will I Jehovah's praise 
According to his justice raise, 
And sing the Name and Deity 
Of Jehovah t)te most high. 



4- 



502 M/LTOJV'S POETICAL WORKS. 

PSALM VIII. 
August 14, 1653. 

Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 
And glorious is thy name through all the earth! 

So as above the heavens thy praise to set 
Out of the tender mouths of latest birth. 

Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou 
Hast founded strength because of all thy foes, 

To stint the enemy, and slack the avenger's brow, 
That bends his rage thy providence to oppose. 

When I behold thy heavens, thy fingers' art, 

The moon and stars which thou so bright hast set 

In the pure firmament, then saith my heart, 
Oh, what is man that thou rememberest yet, 

And think'st upon him; or of man begot, 
That him thou visit'st, and of him art found ? 

Scarce to be less than gods, thou mad'st his lot, 

With honour and with state thou hast him crowned. 

O'er the works of thy hand thou mad'st him lord, 
Thou hast put all under his lordly feet, 

All flocks, and herds, by thy commanding word, 
All beasts that in the field or forest meet, 

Fowl of the heavens, and fish that through the wet 
Sea paths in shoals do slide, and know no dearth. 

O Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 
.And glorious is thy name through all the eaith ! 



April, 1648. J. M. 

[.Nine of the Psalms done into metre, wherein all, but what is in s 
different character, are the very words of the text, translated frcn 
the original.] 

PSALM LXXX. 

1 Thou Shepherd that dost Israel keep, 
Give ear in time of need, 
Who leadest like a flock of sheep 
Thy loved Joseph's seed, 
I 

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PSALMS. 503 

That sitt'st between the cherubs bright, 

Between their wings out-spread, 
Shine forth, and from thy cloud give ligM, 

And on our foes thy dread. 

2 In Ephraim's view and Benjamin's, 

And in Manasse's sight, 
Awake 1 th.j strength, come, and be seen 
To save us by thy might. 

3 Turn us again, thy grace divine 

To us, God, vouchsafe ; 
Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
And then we shall be safe. 
^ Lord God of Hosts, how long wilt thou. 
How long wilt thou declare 
Thy 2 smoking wrath, and angry brow 
Against thy people's prayer ! 

5 Thou feed'st them with the bread of tears, 

Their bread with tears they eat, 
And mak'st them 3 largely drink the tears 
WJierewith their cheeks are wet. 

6 A strife thou mak'st us and a prey 

To every neighbour foe, 
Amongst themselves they 4 laugh, they 4 pU,< 
And 4 flouts at us they throw. 

7 Return us, and thy grace divine, 

God of Hosts, vouchsafe, 
Cause thou thy face on us ; to shine, 
And then we shall be safe. 
y A vine from Egypt thou hast brought, 
Thy free love made it thine, 
And drovst out nations, proud and tout, 
To plant this lovely vine. 
Thou didst prepare for it a place, 
And root it deep and fast, 
That it began to grow apace, 
And filled the land at last. 
LO With her green shade that covered all, 
The hills were overspread, 
Her boughs as high as cedars tall 
Advanced their lofty head. 

1 Gnorora 2 Gnashartta. 3 Sbalish. 

4 Jilgnagu. 



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504 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

i 1 Her branches on the western side 
Down to the sea she sent, 
And upward to that river wide 
Her other branches went. 
\ 2 Why hast thou laid her hedges low, 
And broken down her fence, 
That all may pluck her, as they go, 
With rudest violence ? 

13 The tusked boar out of the wood 

Upturns it by the roots, 
Wild beasts there browse, and make their food 
Her grapes and tender shoots. 

1 4 Keturn now, God of Hosts, look dowr? 

From Heaven, thy seat divine, 
Behold us, but without a frown, 
And visit this thy vine. 

15 Visit this vine, which thy right hand 

Hath set, and planted long, 
And the young branch, that for thyself 
Thou hast made firm and strong, 

16 But now it is consumed with fire, 

And cut with axes down ; 
They perish at thy dreadful ire, 
At thy rebuke and frown. 

17 Upon the man of thy right hand 

Let thy good hand be laid, 
Upon the son of man, whom thou 
Strong for thyself hast made. 

18 So shall we not go back from thee 

To ways of sin and shame ; 
Quicken us thou, then gladly we 
Shall call upon thy Name. 
i 9 Keturn us, and thy grace divine, 
Lord God of Hosts, vouchsafe, 
Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
* And then we shall be safe. 



PSALM LXXXI. 

1 To God our strength sing loud, and ohM, 
Sing loud to God our King, 
To Jacob's God, that all may hear, 
Loud acclamations ring 



K 



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PSALMS. 505 



?> Prepare a hymn, prepare a song, 
The timbrel hither bring, 
The cheerful psaltery bring along, 
And harp with pleasant string. 
3 Blow, as is wont, in the new moon 
With trumpets' lofty sound, 
The appointed time, the day whereon 
Our solemn feast comes round. 
d This was a statute given of old 
For Israel to observe, 
A law of Jacob's God, to hold, 
From whence they might not swerrt 

5 This he a testimony ordained 

In Joseph, not to change, 
When as he passed through Egypt landj 
The tongue I heard was strange. 

6 From burden, and from slavish toil 

I set his shoulder free : 
His hands from pots, and miry soil, 
Delivered were by me. 

7 When trouble did thee sore assail, 

On me then didst thou call, 
And I to free thee did not fail, 

And led thee out of thrall. 
I answered thee in 1 thunder deep 

With clouds encompassed round, 
I tried thee at the water steep 

Of Meribah renowned. 
3 Hear, my people, hearken well, 

I testify to thee, 
Thou ancient stock of Israel, 

If thou wilt list to me, 
9 Throughout the land of thy abode 

No alien god shall be, 
Nor shalt thou to a foreign god 

In honour bend thy knee. 
10 1 am the Lord thy God, which brought 

Thee out of Egypt land ; 
Ask large enough, and I, besought, 

Will grant thy full demand 

1 Be sether ragnam. 



♦£3k 



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$g6 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

11 And yet my people would not hear, 

Nor hearken to my voice ; 
And Israel, ivhom I loved so dear, 
Misliked me for his choice. 

12 Then did I leave them to their will, 

And to their wandering mind; 
Their own conceits they followed still, 
Their own devices blind. 

13 Oh, that my people would be wise, 

To serve me all their days ! 

And oh, that Israel would advise 

To walk m) righteous ways ! 

14 Then would I soon bring down their foefA, 

That now so proudly rise, 
And turn my hand against all those 
That are their enemies. 

15 Who hate the Lord should then be fain 

To bow to him and bend ; 
But they, his people, shoidd remain, 
Their time should have no end. 

16 And he would feed them from the shocls 

With flour of finest wheat, 

And satisfy them from the rock 

With honey for their meat. 



TSA.LM LXXXII. 

1 God in the 1 great 1 assembly stands 

Of kings and lordly states, 
8 Among the gods, 2 on both his hands 
He judges and debates. 

2 How long will ye 3 pervert the right 

With 3 judgment false and wrong, 

favouring the wicked by your might, 

Who thence grow bold and strong 1 

3 4 Regard the 4 weak and fatherless. 

4 Despatch the 4 poor man's cause, 
And "raise the man in deep distress 
By 5 just and equal laws, 

1 Bognadath-el. 2 Bekerev. 3 Tishpbetu giuv<<? 

4 Shiphtu-di>L 5 Hatzdiku. 



+§* 



PSALMS. 507 

i Defend the poor and desolate, 
And rescue from the hands 
Of wicked men the low estate 
Of him that help demands. 

5 They know not, nor will understand, 

In darkness they walk on ; 
The earth's foundations all are 1 moved, 
And 1 out of order gone 

6 I said that ye were gods, yea all 

The sons of God Most High; 

7 But ye shall die like men, and fall 

As other princes die. 

8 Rise, God, 2 judge thou the earth in might, 

This wicked 2 earth redress, 
For thou art he who shalt by right 
The nations all possess. 



PSALM LXXXIII. 

1 Be not thou silent noiv at length, 

God, hold not thy peace ; 
Sit thou not still, God of strength, 
We cry, and do not cease. 

2 For lo, thy furious foes now 3 swell, 

And 3 storm outrageously; 
And they that hate thee, proud and fell, 

Exalt their heads full high. 
8 Against thy people they 4 contrive 

5 Their plots and counsels deep, 
•Them to ensnare they chiefly strive, 

7 Whom thou dost hide and keep. 

4 Come, let us cut them off, say they, 

Till they no nation be ; 
That Israel's name for ever may 
Be lost in memory. 

5 For they consult s with all their might. 

And all as one in mind 
Themselves against thee they unite, 
And in firm union bind 

trmnotu. 2 Shiphta. 3 Jehemajun. * Jagn&rimu 

s Sod. 6 Jirthjagnatsu gnal. ' Tsephuntca. 

3 Levjachdau. 



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4 



508 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

6 The tents of Edorn, and the brood 

Of scornful Ishmael, 
Moab, with them of Hagar's blood, 
That in the desert dwell, 

7 Gebal and Amnion there conspire. 

And hateful Amalec, 
The Philistims, and they of Tyre, 
Whose bounds the sea doth check. 

8 With them great Ashur also bands 

And doth confirm the knot : 
All these have lent their armed hand? 
To aid the sons of Lot. 

9 Do to them as to Midian bold, 

That wasted all the coast, 
To Sisera, and as is told 

Thou didst to Jabin's host, 
When at the brook of Kishon old 

They were repulsed and slain, 

10 At Endor quite cut off, and rolled 

As dung upon the plain. 

11 As Zeb and Oreb evil sped, 

So let their princes speed, 

As Zeba and Zalmunna bled, 

So let their princes bleed 

12 For they amidst their pride have said, 

By right now shall we seize 
God's houses, and will now invade 
1 Their stately palaces. 

13 My God, oh make them as a wheel, 

No quiet let them find ; 
Giddy and restless let them reel 
Like stubble from the wind. 

14 As when an aged wood takes lire 

Which on a sudden strays, 
The greedy flame runs higher and highev 
Till all the mountains blaze, 

15 So with thy whirlwind them pursue, 

And with thy tempest chase ; 

16 s And till they 3 yield thee honour due. 

Lord, fill with shame their face. 

* Neoth EloJii/n bears both. 2 Heb. They seek thy nrorvi 



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KB * — *^* 

PSALMS. 509 

17 Ashamed, and troubled, let them he, 

Troubled and shamed for ever, 
Ever confounded, and so die 
With shame, and 'scape it never. 

18 Then shall they know that thou, whose name 

Jehovah is alone, 
Art the most high, and thou the same 
O'er all the earth art one 



I 



PSALM LXXXIV. 

1 How lovely are thy dwellings fair 

Lord of Hosts, how dear 
The pleasant tabernacles are, 
Where thou dost dwell so near ! 

2 My soul doth long and almost die 

Thy courts, O Lord, to see, 
My heart and flesh aloud do cry, 
O living God, for thee. 

3 There even the sparrow freed from wrong 

Hath found a house of rest, 
The swallow there, to lay her young 

Hath built her brooding nest ; 
Even by thy altars, Lord of Hosts, 

They find their safe abode ; 
And home they fly from round the coasts, 

Toward thee, my King, my God. 

4 Happy, who in thy house reside, 

Where thee they ever praise, 

5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide, 

And in their hearts thy ways. 

6 They pass through Baca's thirsty vale, 

That dry and barren ground, 
As through a fruitful watery dale 
Where springs and showers abound. 

7 They journey on from strength to strength 

With joy and gladsome cheer, 
Till all before our God at length 
In Sion do appear. 

8 Lord God of Hosts, hear now my prayer, 

Jacob's God give ear ; 

9 Thou God, our shield, look on the face 

Of thy anointed dear. 



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SiO MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

10 For one day in thy courts to be 

Is better, and more blest, 
Than in the joys of vanity 

A thousand days at best. 
I in the temple of my God 

Had rather keep a door, 
Tli an dwell in tents, and rich abode, 

Wi th sin for evermore. 

11 For God the Lord, both sun and shien^ 

Gives grace and glory bright ; 
No good from them shall be withheld 
Whose ways are just and right. 

12 Lord Ood of Hosts that reigrtst on higlt? 

That man is truly blest, 

Who only on thee doth rely, 

And in thee only rest. 



PSALM LXXXV. 

1 Thy land to favour graciously 

Thou hast not, Lord, been slack, 
Thou hast from hard captivity 
Returned Jacob back. 

2 The iniquity thou didst forgive 

That wrought thy people woe ; 
And all their sin, that did thee grievv t 

Hast hid where none shall know. 
8 Thine anger all thou hadst removed, 

And calmly didst return 
From thy l fierce wrath which we had provuil' 

Far worse than fire to burn. 

4 God of our saving health and peace, 
Turn us, and us restore ; 

Thine indignation cause to cease 
Toward us, and chide no more. 

5 Wilt thou be angry without end, 

For ever angry thus? 
Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 
From age to age on us ? 

The burning heat of thy wrstfc. 
^ ^ 



PSALMS. 511 

C Wilt thou not * turn, and hear our voice, 
And us again 1 revive; 
That so thy people may rejoice 
By thee preserved alive. 

7 Cause us to see thy goodness, Lord, 

To us thy mercy shew ; 
Thy saving health to us afford, 
And life in us renew. 

8 And now what God the Lord will speak, 

I will go straight and hear ; 
For to his people he speaks peace, 

And to his saints full dear, 
To his dear saints he will speak peace, 

But let them never more 
Return to folly, but surcease 

2b trespass as before. 

9 Surely to such as do him fear 

Salvation is at hand ; 
And glory shall ere long appear 

To dwell within our land. 
iO Mercy and Truth that long were missed 

Now joyfully are met ; 
Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kissed, 

And hand in hand are set. 

11 Truth from the earth, like to a flower, 

Shall hud and hlossom then ; 
And Justice from her heavenly bower 
Look down on mortal men. 

12 The Lord will also then bestow 

"Whatever thing is good; 
Our land shall forth m plenty throw 

Her fruits to be our food. 
18 Before him Righteousness shall go, 

His royal harbinger : 
Then 2 will he come, and not be slow, 

His footsteps cannot err. 

5 Heb. Turn to quicken us. 

» Hcb. He will set his steps to ihc v/&#» 



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512 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



PSALM LXXXVI. 

1 Thy gracious ear, Lord, incline, 

hear me, I thee pray, 

For I am poor, and almost pine 
With need, and sad decay. 

2 Preserve my soul, for * I have trod 

Thy ways, and love the just; 

Save thou thy servant, O my God, 

Who still in thee doth trust. 

3 Pity me, Lord, for daily thee 

1 call; 4. Oh, make rejoice 

Thy servant's soul ; for, Lord, to thee 
I lift my soul and voice. 

5 For thou art good, thou, Lord, art prom 

To pardon, thou to all 
Ait full of mercy, thou alone 
To them that on thee call. 

6 Unto my supplication, Lord, 

Give ear, and to the cry 
Of my incessant prayers afford 
Thy hearing graciously. 

7 I in the day of my distress 

Will call on thee for aid; 
For thou wilt grant me free access, 
And answer what I prayed. 

8 Like thee among the gods is none, 

Lord, nor any works 

Of all that other gods have done 
Like to thy glorious works. 

9 The nations all whom thou hast made- 

Shall come, and all shall frame 
To bow them low before thee, Lord, 
And glorify thy name. 

10 For great thou ait, and wonders great 

By thy strong hand are done, 
Thou in thy everlasting seat 
Remainest God alone. 

11 Teach me, Lord, thy way most right, 

1 in thy truth will bide, 

To fear thy name my heart unite, 
So shall it never slide. 
J Heb. I am good, lo-^o. a doer of good and holy thin^fe. 



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PSALMS. 513 



13 Thee will I praise, O Lord my God, 

Thee honour and adore 
With my whole heart, and blaze abroa i 

Thy name for evermore. 
lb For great thy mercy is toward me, 

And thou hast freed my soul, 
Even from the lowest hell set free, 

From deepest darkness foul. 

14 G od ! the proud against me rise, 

And violent men are met 
To seek my life, and in their eyes 
No fear of thee have set. 

15 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild, 

Readiest thy grace to show, 
Slow to he angry, and art styled 
Most merciful, most true. 

16 Oh, turn to me tliyface at length, 

And me have mercy on ; 
Unto thy servant give thy strength, 
And save thy handmaid's son, 

17 Some sign of good to me afford, 

And let my foes then see, 
And he ashamed; because thou, Loi#, 
Dost help and comfort me. 



PSALM LXXXVII. 

Among the holy mountains high 

Is his foundation fast, 
There seated is his sanctuary ; 

His temple there is placed. 
Sion's/air gates the Lord loves more 

Than all the dwellings fair 
Of Jacob's land, though there he stvrv t 

And all within his care, 
City of God, most glorious things 

Of thee abroad are spoke ; 
I mention Egypt, where proud M?igv 

Did our forefathers yoke ; 
I mention Babel to my friends, 

Philistia full of scorn, 
And Tyre with Ethiop's utmost endu, 

Lo this man there was born : 



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t MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 










5 But fatfics £/*«£ praise shall in our ear 








Be said of Sion Zas£ ; 








This and this man was born in her. 








High God shall fix her fast. 








6 The Lord shall write it in a scroll, 








That ne'er shall be out-worn, 










When he the nations doth enrol, 










That tliis man there was born. 










? Both they who sing, and they who dance, 








With sacred songs are there ; 


• 






In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glows-*, 








And all my fountains dear 


_ 








PSALM LXXXVI1I. 










1 Lord God, that dost me save and keci/ 










All day to thee I cry ; 










And all night long before thee weep, 










Before thee prostrate lie 










2 Into thy presence let my prayer 










With sighs devout ascend, 










And to my cries that ceaseless ars, 










Thine ear with favour bend. 










3 For cloyed with woes and trouble stcrf 










Surcharged my soul doth lie ; 










My life at death's uncheerful door 










Unto the grave draws nigh. 










Reckoned I am with them that pass 










-Down to the dismal pit; 










I am a man, 1 but weak, alas ! 










And for that name unfit. 










From life discharged and parted qui to 










Among the dead to sleep ; 










And like the slain in bloody fight 










That in the grave lie deep. 










Whom tho'j rememberest no more, 










Dost never more regard; 










Them from thy hand delivered o'er, 










Death's hideous house hath barred. 










A rw\n withnit *nftnly strength 






t 


Wx 




wi 


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r 




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PSALMS. $1$ 

6 Thou in the lowest pit profound 
Hath set me all forlorn, 
Where thickest darkness hovers round, 
In horrid deeps to mourn. 
V Thy wrath, from which no shelter saves, 
Full sore doth press on me 
Thou break' st upon me all t> / waves. 
And all thy waves break r, e. 1 

8 Thou dost my friends from me estrange, 

And mak'st me rdiou?. 
Me to them odious, for they change, 
And I here pent up thus. 

9 Through sorrow, and affliction great, 

Mine eye grows dim and dead ; 
Lord, all the day I thee entreat, 
My hands to thee I spread. 
10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead? 
Shall the deceased arise, 
And praise thee from their loathsome bed 
With pale and hollow eyes ? 
i 1 Shall they thy loving kindness tell 
On whom the grave hath hold, 
Or they who in perdition direll, 
Thy faithfulness unfold ? 
12 In darkness can thy mighty hand 
Or wondrous acts be known ? 
Thy justice in the gloomy land 
Of dark oblivion ? 
18 But I to thee, Lord, do cry, 
Ere yet my life be spent , 
And up to thee my prayer doth hie, 
Each morn, and thee prevent. 
1.4 Why wilt thou, Lord, my soul forsake, 

And hide thy face from me, 

15 That am already bruised, and 2 shake 

With terror sent from thee? 3 

Bruised and afflicted, and so V ;•? 

As ready to expire ; 
While I thy terrors undergo, 
Astonished with thine ire. 
18 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow,. 
Thy threatenings cut me through : 

1 Tlie Hebrew bears bcth, 2 Prs? corcr.S'qoRfe. 

LL 



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MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

tl All day they round about me go, 
Like waves they me pursue. 

18 Lover and Mend thou hast removed, 
And severed from me far : 
Theyj% me now whom I have loved, 
And as in darkness are. 



A PARAPH3ASE ON PSALM CXIV. 

'This and the following Psalm were done by the Author at 3 
years old.] 

When the blest seed of Terah's faithful son, 

After long toil, their liberty had won, 

And past from Pharian fields to Canaan land, 

Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand, 

Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shown, 

His praise and glory was in Israel known. 

That saw the troubled sea, and shivering fled, 

And sought to hide his iroth-becurled head 

Low in the earth ; Jordan's clear streams recoil, 

As a faint host that hath received the foil. 

The high, huge-bellied mountains skip like rains 

Amongst their ewes, the little hills like lambs. 

Why fled the ocean ? And why skipped the moimteui? 

Why turned Jordan toward his crystal fountains 

Shake, Earth ! and at the presence be aghast 

Of Mm that ever was, and aye shall last ; 

Th?,t glassy floods from rugged rocks can crush* 

And make soft rills from fiery flint-stones gush. 



PSALM CXXXVL 

Let us, with a gladsome mind, 
Praise the Lord, for he is kind 
For his mercies aye endure, 
Ever faithful, ever sure. 



Let us blaze his name abroad. 
For of gods he is the God*; 
fir his, &o. 



0" 



PSALMS, 517 



Oh, let us his praises tell, 
Who doth the wrathful tyrants quell « 
For his, &c. 

Who with his miracles doth make 
Amazed JBeaven and earth to shake; 
Fur ms, &c. 

Who by Ills wisdom did create 
The painted heavens so full of state : 
For his, &c 

Who did the solid earth ordain 
To rise above the watery plain : 
For his, &c. 

Who, by his all commanding might, 
Did fill the new-made world with light 
For his, &c. 

And caused the golden-tressed sun 
All the day long his course to run : 
For his, &c. 

The horned moon to shine by night, 
Amongst her spangled sisters bright : 
For his, &c. 

He, with Ids thunder-clasping hand, 
Smote the first-born of Egypt land: 
For his, &c. 

And in despite of Pharao fell, 
He brought from thence his Israel 
For his, &c. 

The ruddy waves he cleft in twain 
Of the Erythraean main : 
For his, &c. 

The floods stood still like walls of glass 
While the Hebrew bands did pass : 
For his, &e. 

But fidl soon they did devour 
The tawny king with all his power J 
For his, &c. 

His chosen people he did bless 
In the wasteful wilderness : 
For his, &c 



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51S MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS 

In bloody battle he brought down 
Kings of prowess and renown ; 
For his, &c. 

He foiled bold Seon and his host, 
That ruled the Amorrean coast : 
Far his, &c. 

And large-limbed Og he did subduD, 
With all his over-hardy crew 5 
Tor his, &c. 

And to his servant Israel, 
He gave their land therein to dwell : 
For his, &c. 

He hath, with a piteous eye, 
Beheld us in our misery:" 
For his, &c. 

And freed us from the slavery 
Of the invading enemy : 
For his, &c. 

All living creatures he doth feed, 
And with, full haud supplies their nx^i § 
For his, &c. 

Let us therefore warble forth 
His mighty majesty and worth s 
For his, &c. 

That his mansion hath on high 
4bove the reach of mortal ey& 

for his mercies aye endurs* 

Ever faithful, ever sura. 



& 



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519 



JOHANNIS MILTORI 

LONDINENSIS 

Ipoentatit. 

QUOEUM PLEEAQUE INTEA ANNUM J3TATIS VIGESIMUM CONSCEIPSIT. 



Hsoe quae sequuntur de Authore testimonia, tametsi ipse intellige- 
bat non tarn de se quam supra se esse dicta, eo quod praeclaro ingeuio 
viri, ncc non amici ita fere solent laudare, ut omnia suis potius vir- 
tutibus, quam veritati congruentia nimis cupide afUngant, noluit 
lamen borum egregiam in se voluntatem non esse notam; cum alii 
praescrtim ut id faccret magnopere suaderent. Dum enim nimiae 
laudis invidiam totis ab se viribus amolitur, sibique quod plus aequo 
lest non attributum esse mavult. judicium interim bominum cordat- 
orum atque illustrium quin summo sibi honoxi ducat, negare nun 
potest. 

JOANNES BAPTISTA MANSUS, MAI1CHIO VILLENSIS, 
NEAPOLITAN US, 

AD 

JOANNEM MILTONIDM ANGLUM. 

Ut mens, forma, decor, facies, mos, si pietas sio, 
Non Anglus, ■verum hercle Angelus ipse fores. 

AD JOANNEM MILTONEM ANGLUM. 

TBIPLICI POESEOS LATJBEA CORONANDUIT, 

Grceca nimirum, Latina, atque Hetrusea, JSpigramma Joannis 
Salsilli Somctni. 

Cede Meles, cedat depressa Mincius urna ; 

Sebetus Tassum desinat nsque loqui ; 
At Thamesis victor cunctis ferat altior nndas, 

Nam per te, Milto, par tribus unua erit. 



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520 MIL TON'S TOE TIC A I WORKS, 



AD JOANNEM MILTONUM. 

Gr-ECIA Maeonidem, jactet sibi Roma Maronem, 
Anglia Miltonum jactat utrique parem. 

Selvaggi. 



AL STGNIOB GIO. MILTONI NOBILE INGLES** 
Ode. 

Ergimi all' Etra 6 Olio 

Perche di stelle intreccierd corona, 

Non piu del biondo Dio 

La fronde eterna in Pindo, e in Elicona, 

Diensi a merto maggior, maggion i fregi, 

A' celeste virtu celesti pregi. 

Non puo del tempo edace 
Kimaner preda, eterno alto valore, 
Non puo 1' oblio rapace 
Furar dalle memorie eccelso onore ; 
Su 1' arco di mia cetra un dardo forte 
Virtu m' adatti, e feriro la morte. 

Del Ocean profondo 

Cinta dagli ampi gorghi Anglia resied# 

Separata dal mondo, 

Pero die il suo valor Tumana eccede : 

Questa seconda sa produrre Eroi, 

Ch' hanno a ragion del sovruman tra noi 

Alia virtu sbandita 

Danno ne i petti lor fldo ricetto, 

Quella gli e sol gradita, 

Perche in lei san trovar gioia e diletto ; 

Ridillo tu, Giovanni, e mostra in tanto 

Con tua vera virtu, vero il mio canto. 

Lungi dal patrio lido 

Spinse Zeusi l'industre ardente Iraina) 

Ch' udio d' Helena il grido 

Con aurea tromba rimbombar la fama, 

E per poterla effigiare al pai-o 

Dalle piu belle Idee trasse il piu raro. 

Cosi 1' ape ingegnosa 

Trae con industria il suo liquor pregiato 



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POEM ATA. 521 



Dal giglio e dalla rosa, 
E quanti vaghi fiori ornano ll prato ; 
Fonnano un dolce suon diverse chords 
Fan varie voci melodia concorde. 

Di bella gloria amante 

Milton dal Ciel natio per varie parti 

Le peregrine piante 

Volgesti a ricercar scienze, ed arti ; 

Del Gallo regnator vedesti i regni, 

E dell' Italia ancor gl' Eroi pitl degni 

Fabro quasi clivino 

Sol virtu rintracciando il tuo pensiero 

Vide in ogrn confino 

Chi di rj jbil valor calca il sentiero ; 

L' ottimo dal miglior dopo scegliea 

Per fabbiicar d'ogni virtu 1' idea. 

Quanti nacquero in Flora 

in lei del parlar Tosco appreser 1' arte, 
La cui memoria onora 

II mondo fatta eterna in dotte carte, 
Volesti ricercar per tuo tesoro, 
E parlasti con lor nell' opre loro 

f^ell' altera Babelle 

Per te il parlar confuse Giove in vano, 

Che per varie favelle 

Di se stessa trofeo cadde su'l piano : 

Ch'ode oltr' all' Anglia il suo piu degno idiom' 

Spagna, Francia, Toscana, e Grecia, e Roma 

1 piu profondi arcani 

Ch' occulta la natura e in cielo e in term 
Ch' a ingegni sovrumani 
Troppo avara tal' hor gli chiude, e serra, 
Chiaramente conosci, e giungi al fine 
Delia moral virtude al gran confine. 

Non batta il Tempo 1' ale, 

Fermisi immoto, e in un terrain si gV anni 

Che di virtu immortale 

Scorron di troppo ingiuriosi a i danni, 

Che s* opre degne di poema storia 

Furon gia, Thai presenti alia memoria. 



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m MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



Dammi tua dolce cetra 

Se vuoi ch' io dica del tuo dolce canto, 

Ch' inalzandoti all* Etra 

Di farti huomo celeste ottiene il vantc, 

II Tamigi il dira clie gl' e concesso 

Per te, suo cigno, parreggiar Permesso 

I o che in riva del Ar no 

Tento spiegar tuo merto alto*e preelaro, 

So che fatico indamo, 

E ad ammirar, non a lotiarlo iniparo ; 

Freno dunque la lingua, e ascolto il core 

Che ti prende a lodar con lo stupore. 

Del sig. Antonio Francini, 

Gentilhuonio Florentine. 



JOANNI MILTONI 

LONDINENSI \ 

Jvatfa palria, virtutibue, eximio, 

Viro qui multa peregrinatione, studio cuncta orbia tei 
rarum loca perspexit, ut novus Ulysses omnia jtbique al 
cmnibus apprehenderet : 

Polyglotto, in cujus ore linguae jam deperditse sic revi- 
</iscunt, ut idiomata omnia sint in ejus laudibusinfacunda; 
Bt jure ea percallet, ut admirationes et plausus populovum 
ab propria sapientia excitatos intelligat: 

llli, cujus animi dotes corporisque sensus ad adrnira- 
tionem commovent, et per ipsam motum cuique auferunt; 
cujus opera ad plausus hortantur, sed venustate * vocem 
laudatoribus adimunt. 

Cui in memoiia totus crbis; in inteilcctu sapientia; in 
roluiitate ardor glorise; in ore eloquentia; harmonicos 
ecelestium spheerarum sonitus astronomid duce audienti; 
cliaracteres mirabilium naturae per quos Dei magnitudo 
describitur magistr& philosophic legenti ; antiquitatuin 
fatel ras, vetustatis excidia, eruditionis ambages, comite 
assidt I auctorum lectione, 

'• Exquirenti, restauranti, percurrenti. 
At cur nitor in arduum? " 

* Vastitate, Edit. 1646. 



Hr 



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4 



F OEM ATA. 



5*3 



Illi in eujue Tirtutibus evulgandis ora Famse non suffi- 
ciant, nee hoininum stupor in laudandis satis sst, reverentia 
et amoris ergo hoc ejus meritis debituin admirationis tri- 
butum offert Cabultjs Datus, Patricius Florentinus, 

Tanto homini servus, tants viitutis amator e 



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524 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS 



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€%fcrant fiber JjrhiBtt 



ELEGIA PEIMA 

Ad Caeolum Deodatcm. 

Tandem, chare, tuae mihi pervenere tabellse, 

Pertulit et voces nuncia charta tuas ; 
Pertulit, occidua Devse Cestrensis ab ora 

Vergiviuin prono qua petit amne salum. 
Multuni, crede, juvat terras aluisse remotas 

Pectus amaus nostri, tamque fidele caput, 
Quodque mihi lepidum tellus longinqua sodalem 

Debet, at unde brevi reddere jussa velit. 
Me tenet urbs reflua quam Thamesis alluit unda, 

Meque nee invitum patria dulcis habet 
Jam nee arundiferum mihi cura revisere Camum, 

Nee dudum vetiti me laris angit amor. 
Nuda nee arva plaoent, umbrasque negantia molles 

Quam male Phoebicolis convenit ille locus ! 
Nee duri libet usque minas perferre magistri, 

Cseteraque ingenio non subeunda meo. 
Si sit hoc exilium patrios adiisse penates, 

Et vacuum curis otia grata sequi, 
Non ego vel profugi nomen, sortemve recuse, 

Leetus et exilii conditione fruor. 
utinam vates nunquam graviora tulisset 

Ille Tomitono fiebihs exul agro; 
Non tunc Ionio q licquam cessisset Homero, 

Neve foret victu laus tibi prima Maro. 
Tempora nam licet hie placidis dare libera Musi?. 

Et totura rapiunt me mea vita libri. 



<h 



*fy— — ^ 

ELEGIARUM LIBER PRIMUS. 525 

Exeipit hinc fessuni einuosi pompa theatri, 

Et vocat ad pkusus garrula scena S1103. 
8eu catus auditiu' senior, seu prodigus haeres, 

Seu procus, aut posita cassicle miles adest, 
Sive decennali foecimdus lite patronus 

Detonat inculto barbara verba foro ; 
keepe vafer gnato succuiTit servus amanti, 

Et nasum rigidi fallit ubique patris ; 
Saepe novos illic virgo mirata calores 

Quid sit amor nescit, dum quoque nescit, amat 
Sive cruentatum furiosa Tragcedia sceptrum 

Quassat, et effusis crinibus ora rotat, 
Et dolet, et specto, juvat et spectasse dolendo f 

Interdum et lacrymis dulcis amaror inest : 
Seu puer infelix indelibata reliquit 

Gaudia, et abrupto flendus amore cadit ; 
Seu ferus e tenebris iterat Styga criminis ultor, 

Conscia funereo pectora torre movens ; 
Seu moeret Pelopeia domus, seu nobilis IK, 

Aut luit incestos aula Creontis avos. 
Sed neque sub tecto semper nee in urbe lateral!^ 

Irrita nee nobis tempora veris eunt. 
Nos quoque lucus habct vicina consitus ulmo, 

Atque suburbani nobilis umbra loci. 
Saspius hie blandas spirantia sidera flammas, 

Virgineos videas preetcriisse choios. 
Ah quoties dignae stupui miracula formae. 

Quae possit senium vel reparare Jovis ! 
Ah quoties vidi superantia lumina gemmas, 

Atq- C re faces, quotquot volvit uterque polus; 
Collaque bis vivi Petopis quae brachia vincant, 

Quaeque fliut puro nectare tincta via; 
Et decus eximium frontis, tremulosque capillos^ 

Aurea quae fallax retia tendit amor ; 
Pellacesque genas, ad quos hyacinthina sordet 

Purpura, et ipse tui rloris, Adoni, rubor ! 
Cedite laudatae toties Heroides olim, 

Et quaecunque vagum cepit arnica Jovein 1 
Cedite Achaemeniae turrita fronte puellae, 

Et quot Susa colunt, Memnoniamque NinoB 
V&s etiam Danaae fasces submittite Nymphse, 

'Et vos Iliac ae, Eomuleaique nuras. 
Nee rompeianas Tarpeia Musa columnar 

Jactet, et Ausoniis plena theatra stolid 



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526 A//Z TY^V 'S POE TICAL WORKS. 

Gloria virginibus debetur prima Britannia, 

Extera sat tibi sit foemina posse sequi. 
Tuque urbs Dardaniis, Londinum, structa colonis, 

Turrigerum late conspicienda caput, 
Tu nimium felix intra tua moenia claudia 

Quicquid formosi pendulus orbis habet. 
Non tibi tot coelo scintillant astra sereno, 

Endymionese turba ministra deso, 
Quot tibi, conspicuae formaque auroque puellss 

Per medias radiant turba videnda vias. 
Creditur huo geminis yenisse invecta columbis 

Alma pharetrigero milite cincta Venus, 
Huic Cnidon, et riguas Simoentis flumine valles, 

Huic Papbon, et roseam post habitura Cypron. 
Apt ego, dum pueri sinit indulgentia caeci, 

Moenia quam subito linquere fausta paro,* 
Et vitare procul malefidae infamia Circes 

Atria, cLLvini Molyos usus ope. 
Stat quoque juncosas Cami remeare paludes, 

Atque iterum raucae murmur adire scholas 
Interea fidi parvum cape munus amici, 

Paucaque in alternos verba coacta modos. 



ELEG1A SECUNDA. 

Anno ^Etatis IT. 

hi obitum Pr<econis Academici Cantubrigiensis. 

Te, qui conspicuus baculo ful gen te solobas 

Palladium toties ore ciere gregem, 
Ultima proeconum praeconem te quoque saeva 

Mors rapit, officio nee favet ipsa suo. 
fcaadidiora licet fuerint tibi tempora plumis 

Sub quibus accipimus delituisse Jovem ; 
dignus tamen Haemonio juvenescere succo, 

Dignus in iEsonios vivere posse dies, 
Dignus quern Stygiis medica revocaret ab undis 

Arte Coronides, saepe rogante dea. 
Tu si jussus eras acies accire togatas, 

Et celer a Phccbo nuntius ire tuo, 
1'alis in Iliaca stabat Cyllenius aulA 

Alipes, actherea missus 1 ab arce Palris 



* 



~qr*" 



ELEGIARUM LIBER PRIMUS. 527 

Talis et Eurybates ante ora furentis Achillei 

Rettiilit Atridae jussa severa ducis. 
Magna sepulcbrorum regina, satelles Averni, 

Sasva nimis Musis, Palladi sseva nimis, 
Quin illos rapias qui pondus inutile terrae, 

Turba quidera est telis ista petenda tuis. 
Vestibus hunc igitur pullis Academia luge, 

Et madeant lachryrnis nigra feretra tuis. 
Fundat et ipsa modos querebunda Elegeia tristes, 

Personet et totis naenia moesta scholis. 



ELEGIA. TERTIA, 

ANttO iETATIS 17. 

In obiiurn Prasulia Wintoniensis. 1 

Mcestcts cram, et tacitus nullo comitante sedebam, 

Haerebautque animo tristia plura meo, 
Protinus en subiit funestas cladis imago 

Fecit in Angliaco quam Libitina solo ; 
Dum procerum ingressa est splendentes marmore turrea 

Dira sepulchrali mors metuenda face ; 
Pulsavitque auro gravidos et jaspide muros, 

Nee metuit satrapum sternere falce greges. 
Tunc memini clarique ducis, fratisque verendi 

Intempestivis ossa cremata rogis : 
Et memini Heroum quos vidit ad asthera raptog, 

Flevit et amissos Belgia tota duces: 
At te praecipue luxi, dignissime Praesul, 

Wintoniaeque olim gloria magna tuae; 
Delicui fletu, et tristi sic ore querebar, 

Mors fera, Tartareo diva secunda Jovi, 
Nonne satis quod sylva tuas persentiat iras, 

Et quod in herbosos jus tibi detur agros, 
Quodque afflata tuo marcescant lilia tabo, 

Et crocus, et pulchrae Cypridi sacra rosa, 
Nee sinis ut semper fluvio contermina quercu9 

Miretur lapsus prastereuntis aquae ? 

Lancelot Andr ewa. who died Sept. 21. 1628 



<& 



ih 



^ 



528 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 

Et tibi succuinbit liquido quae plurima ccb!o 

Evehitur pcnnis quarnlibet augur avis, 
Et quae mille nigris errant animalia sylvis, 

Et quod alunt mutum Proteos antra pec us 
Invida, tanta tibi cum sit concessa potestas; 

Quid juvat hurnana tingere caede manus? 
Nobileque in pectus certas acuisse sagittas, 

Semideamque animam sede fugasse sua? 
Xalia duni lacrymans alto sub pectore volvo, 

Roscidus occiduis Hesperus exit aquis 
St Tartessiaco submerserat sequore currdin 

Phcebus, ab E06 littore mensus iter. 
Nee mora, membra cavo posui referenda cubili, 

Condiderant oculos noxque soporque meos : 
Cum mini visus eram lato spatiarier agro, 

Heu nequit ingenium visa referre meum. 
Illic punicea radiabant omnia luce, 

Ut matutino cum juga sole rubent. 
Ac veluti cum pandit opes Thaumantia proles 

Vestitu nituit multicolore solum. 
Non dea tarn variis ornavit floribus hortos 

Alcinoi, Zephyro Chloris amata levi. 
JPkunina vemantes lambunt argentea campos, 

Ditior Hesperior flavet arena Tago. 
Serpit odoriferas per opes levis aura Favoni, 

Aura sub innumeris humida nata rosis, 
Talis in extremis terras Gangetidis oris 

Luciferi regis fingitur esse domus. 
Ipse racemiferis dum densas vitibus umbras, 

Et pellucentes miror ubique locos, 
Ecce niihi subito Prassul Wintonius astat, 

Sidereum nitido fulsit in ore jubar; 
Vestis ad auratos denuxit Candida talos, 

Infula divinum cinxerat alba caput. 
Dumque senex tali incedit veneraudus amictu, 

Intremuit laeto fiorea teiTa sono. 
Agmina gemmatis plaudunt ccelestia pennis, 

Pura triumphal! personat aethra tuba. 
Quisque novum amplexu comitem cantuquc salutaf;. 

Hosque aliquis placido misit ab ore sonos ; 
Kate veni, et patrii felix cape gaudia regni, 

Semper ab hinc duro, natc, labore vaca. 
Dixit, ex aligerae tetigerunt nablia turmae, 

At mihi ciun tenebris aurea pulsa quies 



< >- <^ 

ELEGIARUM LIBER PRIMUS. 529 

Flebam turbatos Oephaleia pellice somnos, 
Talia -oontingant somnia s&spe miM 



ELEGIA QUARTA, 

Anno Mt.\tis 18. 

^iTnoMAM Jxnmm praceptorem 8uum, apud mercatores Anglva:, 
Hamburg® agentes, Pasloris mnnere fungentem. 

Curre per immensum subito mea littera pontum, 

I, pete Teutonicos leeve per aequor agros; 
Segues rumpe moras, et nil, precor, obstet eunti, 

Et festinantis nil remoretur iter. 
Ipse ego Sicanio framantem carcere ventos 

iEolon, et virides sollicitabo Deos, 
Caoruleamque suis comitataui Dorida Nymph i 3, 

Ut tibi dent placidam per sua regna viam. 
At tu, si poteris, celeres tibi sume jugales, 

Vecta quibus Colchis fugit ab ore viri ; 
Ant queis Triptolemus Scythicas devenit p on* 3 

Gratus Eleusina missus ab urbe puer. 
Atque ubi Germanas flavere videbis arenas, 

Ditis ad Hamburg® moenia flecte gradum 
Dicitur occiso quae ducere nomon ab Hama, 

Cimbrica quern fertur clava cledisse neci. 
Vivit ibi an ti quae clarus pietatis honore 

Prsesul, Christicolas pascere doctus oves ; 
Ille quidem est anims3 plusquam pars altera nostnc 

Dimidio vitaa vivere cogor ego. 
Hei miM ! quot pclagi, quot montes interjecti, 

Me faciunt alia parte carere mei ! 
Charior ille mihi quam tu doctissime Graium 

Cliniadi, pronepos qui Telamonis erat ; 
Quamque Stagirites generoso magnus alumno, 

Quern peperit Lybico Chaonis alma Jovi. 
Quaiis Amyntorides, qualis PhUyreius heroa 

Myrmidonum regi, talis et ille mihi. 
Primus ego Aonios illo prseeunte recessus 

Lustrabam, et bifidi sacra vireta fus;i, 
Pieriosque hausi latices, Ciioque favente, 

CastaJio sparsi lrota ter ora mero. 



^^ 



4- 



-&. 



530 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Flammeus at signum ter viderat arietis iEthoix, 

Induxitque auro lanea terga novo, 
Bisque novo terram sparsisti, Chlori, senileni 

Gramine, bisque tuas abstulit Auster opes : 
Necdum ejus licuit mihi lumina pascere vultu, 

Aut linguae dtilces aure bibisse sonos. 
V'ade igitur, cursuque En rum prseverte sonorum, 

Quam sit opus mo^itis res docet, ipsa vMes. 
Jnvenies dulci cum conjuge forte sedentem, 

Mulcentem gremio pignora chara suo, 
Forsitan aut veterum praelarga volumina patrimi 

Versantem, aut veri biblia sacra Dei, 
Coelestive animas saturantem rore tenellas, 

Grande salutiferae religionis opus. 
Utque solet, multam sit dicere cura salutem, 

Dicere quam decuit, si modo adesset, herum 
Haec quoque, paulum ocuios in humum defixa modesto*,, 

Verba verecundo sis memor ore loqui: 
Ilaec tibi, si teneris v&cat inter praslia Musis, 

Mittit ab Angliaco littore fida manus. 
Accipe sinceram, quamvis sit sera, salutem ; 

Fiat et hoc ipso gratior ilia tibi. 
Sera quidem, sed vera fuit, quam casta recepit 

Icaris a lento Penelopeia viro. 
Ast ego quid volui mamfestum tollere crimen, 

Ipse quod ex omni parte levare nequit ? 
Arguitur tardus merito, noxamque fatetur, 

Et pudet officium deseruisse suum. 
Tu modo da ve&iam fasso, veniamque roganti, 

Crimina diminui, quae patuere, solent. 
Non ferus in pavidos rictus diducit hiantes, 

Vulnifico pronos nee rapit ungue leo. 
Saepe sarissiferi crudelia pectora Thracis 

Supplicis ad moestas delicuere pieces. 
Extensaeque manus avertunt fulmiins ictus, 

Placat et iratos hostia parva Deos. 
Jamque diu scripsisse tibi fuit impetus illi, 

Ne^e moras ultra ducere passus Amor. 
Nam vaga Fama refert, lieu nuntia vera majorats * 

In tibi finitimis bella tumcre locis, 
Teque tuamque urbem truculento milite ciugi 

Et jam Saxonicos arma parasse duces. 
Te circum late campos populatur Enyo, 
Et sata carne virion jam cnior arva rigat ; 



if 



<> 



ELEGIARUM LIBER PRIMUS. 531 

tfermanisque suuin concessit Thr^ia Mortem, 

Illuc Odrysios Mars pater egit equGC ; 
Perpetuoque comans jam deflorescit oliva 

Fugit et a2iisonam Divi perosa tubam. 
Fugit Io terris, et jam non ultima virgo 

Creditur ad superas justa vclasse domos. 
Te tamen interea belli circimisonat horror, 

Vivis et ignoto solus inopsque solo ; 
Et, tibi quam patrii non exhibuere penates, 

Sede peregrina quaeris egenus opem. 
Patria dura parens, et saxis ssevior albis 

Spumea qu8B pulsat littoris unda tui, 
^iccine te decet innocuos exponere foetus. 

Siccine in externam feiTea cogis himium, 
Et sinis ut terris quadrant alimenta remotis 

Quos tibi prospiciens miserat ipse Deus, 
Et qui lata ferunt de coelo nuntia, quique, 

Qua; via post cineres ducat ad astra, docent 9 
Digna quidem Stygiis quae vivas clausa tehebris, 

JEternaque animae digna perire fame! 
Haud aliter vates terrae Thesbitidis olim 

Pressit inassueto devia tesqua pede, 
Desertasque Arabum salebras, dum regis Acnaty 

EfFugit atque tuas, Sidoni dira, manus. 
Talis et horrisono laceratus membra flagello, 

Paulus ab iEmatliia pellitur urbe Cilix. 
Piscosaeque ipsum Gergessae civis Iesum 

Finibus ingratus jussit abire suis. 
At tu sume animos, nee spes cadat anxia curis, 

Nee tua concutiat decolor ossa metus. 
Sis etenim quamvis fulgentibus obsitus armis, 

Intententque tibi millia tela necem, 
At nullis vel inerme latus violabitur armis 

Deque tuo cuspis nulla cruore bibet. 
Namque eris ipse Dei radiante sub segicle tutus, 

Ille tibi custos, et pugil ille tibi ; 
Ille Sionseas qui tot sub mcenibus arcis 

Assyrios fudit nocte silente viros; 
Tuque fugam vertit quos in Samaritidas oras 

Misit ab antiquis prisca Damascus agris, 
Terruit et densas pavido cum rege cobortes, 

Aere dum vacuo buccina clara sonat, 
Cornea pulvereum dum verberat ungula campusii 

Currus areuosam dum quatit actus h.iraum, 






,. ;4 



532 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 

Auditurque hinnitiis equorum ad bell a nientum i 
Et strepitus ferri, murmuraque alta virum. 

Et tu (quod superest miseris) sperare memento, 
Et tua magnanimo pectore vince mala ; 

Nee dubites quandoque frui melioribus annis, 
Atque iteram patrios posse videre lares. 



ELEGIA. QUINTA, 
Anno jEtatis 20. 
In adventum veris. 

In se perpetuo Tempus revolubile gyro 

Jam revocat Zephyros vere tepente novos; 
Indui toque brevem Tellus reparata juventam, 

Jamque soluta gelu dulce virescit humus. 
Fallor ? an et nobis redeunt in carmina vires, 

Ingeniumque mihi munere veris adest ? 
Munere veris adest, iterumque vigeseit ab illo 

(Quis putet?), atque aliquod jam sibi poscit opus 
Castalis ante oculos, bifidumque cacumen oberrat, 

Et mihi Pyrenen somnia nocte ferunt , 
Concitaque arcano fervent mihi pectora motu, 

Et furor, et sonitus me sacer intus agit. 
De-ius ipse venit, video Peneide lauro 

Implicitos crines, Del ins ipse venit. 
Jam mihi mens liquid! raptatur in ardua cceli, 

Perque vagas nubes corpore liber eo; 
Perque umbras, perquo antra feror penetraha vs4 m, 

Et mihi fana patent interiora Deum; 
Intuiturque animus toto quid agatur Olympo, 

Nee fugiunt oculos Tartara caeca meos. 
Quid tam grande son at distento spiritus ore ? 

Quid parit hose rabies, quid sacer iste furor" 
Ver mihi, quod dedit ingenium, cantabitur illo; 

Profuerint isto reddita dona modo 
Jam Philomela tuos foliis adoperta novellis 

Instituis modulos, dum silet omne nemus ; 
Urbe ego, tu sylva, simul incipiamus utriquo, 

Et simul adventun veris uterque can?.t 



iy- 



<y 



ELEGIAkUM LIBER PRIMUS. 533 

Veiis Io ! rediere vices, celebrernus honores 

Veris, et hoc subeat Musa perennis 1 opus. 
Jam sol iEthiopas fugiens Tithoniaque arva, 

Flectit ad Arctoas aurea lora plagas. 
Est breve noctis iter, brevis est mora noctis orpaouJ 

Horrida cum tenebris exulat ilia suis. 
Jamque Lycaonius plaustrum coeleste Bootes 

Non longa sequitur fessus ut aute via ; 
Nunc etiam solitas circum Jo vis atria to to 

Excubias agitant sidera rara polo. 
Nam dolus, et csedes, et vis cum nocte r?cessit, 

Neve Giganteum Dii timuere scelus. 
Forte aliquis scopuli recubans in verti.ee pastor, 

Hoscida cum primo sole rubescit humus, 
Hac, ait, hac certe caruisti nocte puella, 

Phoebe tua, celeres quae retineret equos. 
Laeta suas repetit sylvas, pharetramque resumit 

Cynthia, Luciferas ut videt alta rotas, 
Et tenues ponens radios gaudere videtur 

Officium fieri tarn breve fratris ope. 
Desere, Phoebus ait, thalamos Aurora seniles, 

Quid juvat effceto procubuisse toro ? 
Te manet iEolides viridi venator in herba, 

Surge, tuos ignes altus Hymettus habet. 
Flava verecundo dea crimen in ore fatetur, 

Et matutinos ocius urget equos. 
Exuit invisam Tellus re cU viva senectam, 

Et cupit amplexus, Phoebe, subire tuos; 
Et cupit, et digna est. Quid enim formosius ill&. 

Pandit ut omniferos luxuriosa sinus, 
Atque Arabum spirat messes, et ab ore venusto, 

Mitia cum Paphiis fundit amoma rosis! 
Scce coronatur sacro frons ardua luco, 

Cingit ut Idasam pinea turns Opim ; 
Et vario madidos intexit flore capillos, 

Floribus et visa est posse placere suis. 
Floribus effusos ut erat redimita capillos 

Tenario placuit diva Sicana Deo. 
Aspice, Phoebe, tibi faciles hortantur amores, 

Mellitasque movent flamina verna preces. 
winnamea Zephyrus leve plaudit odorifer ala\ 

Bla»ditiasque tibi ferre videntur aves. 

Qnotannis. Edit. 1646. 



4 



u 



MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

See sine dote tuos temeraria quasrit amores 

Terra, nee optatos poscit egena toros, 
Alma salutiferurn medicos tibi gramen in usus 

Praehet, et hinc titulos adjuvat ipsa tuos. 
Quod si te pretium, si te fulgentia tangunt 

Munera (muneribus saspe coemptus Amor), 
Ilia tibi ostentat quascunque sub aequore rastc, 

Et superinjectis montibus abdit opes. 
All quoties, cum tu clivoso fessus Olympo 

In vespertinas praecipitaris aquas, 
Cur te, inquit, cursu languentem, Phcebe, diurnc 

Hesperiis recipit Caerula mater aquis ? 
Quid tibi cum Tethy? Quid cum Tartesside lymphu. 

Dia quid immundo perluis ora salo ? 
Frigora, Phoebe, mea melius captabis in umbra, 

Hue ades, ardentes imbue rore comas. 
Mollior egelida veniet tibi somnus in herba, 

Hue ades, et gremio lumina pone meo. 
Quaque jaces, circum mulcebit lene susurrans 

Aura, per humentes corpora fusa rosas. 
Nee me (crede mihi) terrent Semeleia fata, 

Nee Phaetonteo fumidus axis equo; 
Cum tu, Phcebe, tuo sapientius uteris igni, 

Hue ades, et gremio lumina pone meo. 
Sic Tellus lasciva suos suspirat amores; 

Matris in exemplum caetera turba ruunt. 
Nunc etenim toto currit vagus orbe Cupido, 

Langueiitesque fovet solis ab igne faces, 
lnsonuere no vis lethalia cornua nervis, 

Triste micant ferro tela corusca novo. 
Jamque vel invictam tentat superasse Dianam, 

Quaeque sedet sacro Vesta pudica foco. 
Ipsa senescentem reparat Venus annua formam, 

Atque iterum tepido creditor orta mari. 
Marmoreas juvenes clamant Hymenaee per urbe 

Littus Io" Hymen, et cava saxa sonant. 
Cultior ille venit, tunicaque decentior apta, 

Puniceum redolet vestis odora crocum. 
?,greditiu'que frequens ad amceni gaudia veris 

Virgineos auro cincta puella sinus. [imam, 

I'olum est cuique suum, votum est tamen omnibus 

Ut sibi quern cupiat, det Cytherea virum. 
Nunc quoque septena moclulatur arundine pastor^ 
" 4 sua quae junga* carmina Phyllis habet 



; Jm 









Y 



ELEGIARUM LIBER PRIMUS. 535 

Navita nocturno placat sua sidera cantu, 

Delphinasque leves ad vada summa vocat. 
Jupiter ipse alto cum conjuge ludit Olympo, 

Convocat et famulos ad sua festa Deos. 
Nunc etiam Satyri, cum sera crepuscula surgunt, 

PerYolitaut celeri florea rura choro, 
Sylvanusque sua cyparissi fronde revinctus, 

Semicaperque Deus, semideusque caper. 
Quseque sub arboribus Dryades latuere vetustis 

Per juga, per solos expatiantur agros. 
Fer sata luxuriat fruticetaque Maen alius Pan, 

Vix Cybele mater, vix sibi tuta Oeres; 
Atque aliquam cupidus praedatur Oreada Eaunus, 

Consulit in trepidos dum sibi nympha pedes, 
Jnmque latet, latitansque cupit male tecta videri, 

Et fugit, et fugiens pervelit ipsa capi. 
Dii quo que non dubitant ccelo praeponere sylvas, 

Et sua quisque sibi numina lucus babet. 
Et sua quisque diu sibi numina lucus habeto, 

Nee vos arborea, dii, precor, ite domo. 
Te referant miseris te, Jupiter, aurea terris 

Saecla, quid ad nimbos aspera tela redis? 
Tu saltern lente rapidos age Pbcebe jugales 

Qua potes, et sensim tempora veris eant; 
Brumaque productas tarde ferat bispida noctes, 

Ingruat et nostro serior umbra polo. 



ELEQIA SEXTA. 

AS. Caeolum Deodatum ruri commorantein, 

7ui cum Idibus Decemb. scripsisset, et sua, carmina excusari p?$lulasie> 
ei solilo minus essent bona, quod inter lautitias, quibus erat ab amici* 
exceplus, haud satis felicem operant Musis dare ze posse affirmabat, hoc 
habuit renponsum. 

Mitto tibi sanam non pleno ventre salutem, 

Qua tu distento forte carere potes. 
At tua quid nostram prolectat musa camcenam, 

Np? <~mit optatas posse sequi tenebras? 
Carmitic scire velis quam te redamemque colamque, 

Crede mihi vix hoc carmine scire queas 



lOT* 



536 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Nam neque uoster amor modulis includitiir arctis, 

Nee venit ad claudos integer ipse pedes. 
Quam bene solennes epnlas, hilaremque Decembrem. 

Festaque coelifugam quae coluere Deum, 
Deliciasque refers, hyberni gaudia ruris, 

Ilaustaque per lepidos Gallic a musta foeos ! 
Quid quereris refugam vino dapibusque poesin ? 

Oarmen amat Bacchum, carmina Bacchus amat 
Nee puduit Phoebuai virides gestasse corymbos, 

Atque hederam lauro praeposuisse sme. 
Saepius Aoniis olamavit collibus Euce 

Mista Thyoneo turba novena clioro. 
Naso Corallaeis mala carmina misit ab agris: 

Non illic epulae, non sata vitis erant. 
Quid nisi vina, rosasque racemiferumque Lyseuia, 

Cantavit brevibus Teia Musa mod is ? 
Pindaricosque innat numeros Teumesius Euan, 

Et redolet sump turn pagina quaeque merum; 
Dum gravis everso currus crepat axe supinus, 

Et volat Eleo pulvere fuscus eques. 
Quadrimoque madens Lyricen Romanus Iaccbo 

Dulce canit Glycerau, flavicomamque Chloen. 
Jam quoque lauta tibi generoso mensa paratu 

Mentis alit vires, ingeniumque fovet. 
Massica foecundam despumant pocula venam, 

Fundis et ex ipso condita metra cado. 
Addimus bis artes, fusumque per intima Phoebum 

Corcla, favent uni Bacchus, Apollo, Ceres. 
Scilicet haud mirum tarn dulcia carmina per te 

Numine composito tres peperisse Deos. 
Nunc quoque Thressa tibi cselato barbitos auro 

Insonat arguta molliter icta manu; 
iuditurque clielys suspensa tapetia circum, 

Virgineos tremula quse regat arte pedes. 
Ilia tuas saltern teneant spectacula inusas. 

Et revocent, quantum crapula peilit iners, 
Crede mihi dum psallit ebur, comitataque plcctmr; 

Inrplet odoratos festa chorea tholos ; 
Percipies taciturn per pectora serpere Phoebum, 

Quale repentinus permeat ossa eaior, 
Perque puellares oculos digitumque sonantem 

Irruet in totos lapsa Thalia sinus. 
Namque elegia levis multorum cura Deorum est 

Ft vocat ad numeros auemlibet ilia suos : 



$ 



*4f 



ELEGIARUM LIBER PRIMUS. 537 

Liber adest elegis, Eratoque, Ceresque, Vemisque^ 

Et cum purpurea matre tenellus Amor. 
Talibus inde licent convivia larga poetis, 

Saepius et veteri eommaduisse mero. 
At qui bella refert, et adulto sub Jove ccelum, 

Heroasque pios, semideosque duces, 
Et nunc sancta canit superum consulta deorum. 

Nunc latrata fero legua profunda cane, 
II] e quidem paree, Samii pro more magistri, 

Viyat, et innocuos prsebeat herba cibos; 
Stet prope fagineo pellucida lympha catillo, 

Sobriaque e puro pocula fonte bibat. 
Additur liuic scelerisque vacans, et casta juventus, 

Et rigidi mores, et sine labe manus. 
Qualis veste nitens sacra, et lustralibus undis 

Surgis ad infensos augur iture Deos 
Hoc ritu vixisse ferimt post rapta sagacem 

Lumina Tnesian, Ogygiumque Linon, 
Et lare devoto profugum Calchanta, senemque 

Orpbeon edomitis sola per antra feris ; 
Sic dapis exiguus, sic rivi potor Homerus 

Dulichium vexit per freta longa virum, 
Et per monstrificam Perseiae Phoebados aulanij 

Et vada foemineis insidiosa sonis, 
Perque tuas, rex ime, domos, ubi sanguine nigro 

Dicitur umbrarum detinuisse greges. 
Diis etenim sacer est vates, divumque sacerdos, 

Spirat et occultum pectus, et ora Jovem. 
At tu, siquid agam, scitabere (si modo saltern 

Esse putas tanti noscere siquid agam). 
Paciferum canimus coelesti semine regem, 

Eaustaque sacratis saecula pacta libris, 
Vagitumque Dei, et stabulantem paupere teeto 

Qui suprema suo cum patre regna colit, 
Stelliparumque poliun, modulantesque sethere turmas 

Et subito elisos ad sua fana Deos. 
Dona quidem dedimus Christi natalibus ilia, 

Ilia sub auroram lux milii prima tulit. 
Te quoque pressa manent patriis meditata cieutis, 

Tu mihi, cm recitem, judicis instar eris. 



^ » ^ ^ 



14$. 



$• 



538 MIL TON'S FOE TIC A L WORKS. 

ELEGIA SEPTIMA. 
Anno JStatis 19. 

Nondom blanda tuas leges, Amathusia, noram, 

Et Paphio vacuum pectus ab igne fuit. 
Ssepe cupidineas, puenlia tela, sagittas, 

Atque tuum sprevi maxime numen Ainor, 
Pu puer imbelles, dixi, transfige columbas, 

Conveniunt tenero mollia bella duci. 
Aut de passeribus tumidos age, parve, tiiumphos, 

Haec sunt militise digna trophsea tuse. 
In genus humanum quid inania dirigis arma ? 

Non valet in fortes ista pharetra viros. 
Non tulit hoc Cyprius (neque enirn Deus ullus aJ Lrtt.3 

Promptior), et duplici jam ferus igne calet. 
Ver erat, et summss radians per culmina villa 

Attulerat primam lux tibi, Maie, diem : 
At mihi adhuc refugam quaerebant lumina noctem, 

Nee matutinum sustinuere jubar. 
Astat Amor lecto, pictis Amor impiger alis, 

Prodidit astantem mota pharetra Deum: 
Prodidit et facies, et duke minantis ocelli, 

Et quicquid puero dignum et Amore fuit. 
Talis in seterno juvenis Sigeius Olympo 

Miscet amatori pocula plena Jovi ; 
Aut qui formosas pellexit ad oscula nymphas 

Thiodamantssus Naiade raptus Hylas. 
Addideratque iras, sed et has decuisse putares, 

Addideratque truces, nee sine felle minas. 
Et miser exemplo sapuisses tutius, inquit, 

Nunc mca quid possit dextera testis eris. 
Inter et expertos vires numerabere nostras. 

Et faciam vero per tua damna fidem. 
Ipse ego, si nescis, strato Pythone superbum 

Edomui Phoebum, cessit et iBa mihi; 
Et quoties meminit Peneidos, ipse fatetur 

Certius et gravius tela nocere mea. 
Me nequit adductum curvare peritius arcum, 

Qui post terga solet vincere Parthus equea : 
Cydoniusque mihi cedit venator, et ille 

Inscius uxori qui necis author erat. 



X 



^ <*(&♦ 

ELEGIARUM LIBER PRIMUS. 539 

Est etiam nobis ingens quoque victus Orion, 

Herculeaeque manus, Herculeusque cornea 
Jupiter ipse licet sua fulinina torqueat in me, 

Haerebunt lateri spicula nostra Jovis. 
Caetera quae dubitas melius mea tela docebunt, 

Et tua non leviter cor da petenda niihi. 
Nee te, stulte, tuse poterunt defendere musss, 

Nee tibi Phcebseus porriget anguis opem. 
Dixit, et aurato quatiens mucrone sagittam, 

Evolat in tepidos Cypridos ille sinus. 
At mihi risuro tonuit ferus ore minaci, 

Et mihi de puero non metus ullus erat. 
Et modo qua nostri spatiantur in ui'be Quiritee, 

Et inodo villarum proxima rura placent. 
Turba i'requens, facieque simillima turba dearum 

Splendida per medias itque reditque vias. 
Auctaque luce dies gernino fulgore coruscat, 

Fallor ? An et radios hinc quoque Phoebus habet 1 
Hcec ego non fugi spectacula grata severus, 

Impetus et quo me fert juvenilis, agor, 
Lumina lumiuibus male providus obvia misi, 

Neve oculos potui continuisse meos. 
Unam forte aliis supereminuisse notabam, 

Principium nostri lux erat ilia mali. 
Sic Venus optaret mortalibus ipsa videri 

Sic regina Deum conspicienda fuit. 
Hanc rnemor objecit nobis malus ille Cupido 

Solus et hos nobis texuit antfl dolos. 
Nee procul ipse vafer latuit, mul deque sagittae, 

Et facis a tergo grande pependit onus. 
Nee mora, nunc ciliis hsesit, nunc virgin: s on> 

Insilit hinc labiis, insidet inde genis : 
Et quascunque agiiis partes jaculator oberrat, 

Hei mihi, mille locis pectus inerme ferit. 
Protinus insoliti sjubierunt corcla furores, 

Uror amans intus, flammaque totus eram 
Interea misero quae jam mihi sola placebat, 

Ablata est oculis non' reditura meis. 
Ast ego progredior tacite querebundus, et excors, 

Et dubius volui saspe referre pedem 
Findor, et haec remanet, sequitur pars altera votiur 

"Raptaque tam subito gauclia flere juvat. 
Sic dolet amissum proles Junonia cceluiD 3 

Inter Lemniacos prsecipitata focca. 



<> 



fy 



-f : $ 

540 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Talis et abreptum solem respexit, ad Orcum 

Vectus ab attonitis Amphiaraus equis. 
Quid faciam infelix, et luctu victus ? Amores 

Nee licet inceptos ponere, neve sequi. 
utinam, spectare seinel mihi detur amat03 

Vultus, et coram tristia verba loqui ! 
JForsitan et duro non est adamante creata, 

Forte nee ad nostras surdeat ilia preces. 
Crede mihi, nullus sic infeliciter arsit, 

Ponar in exemplo primus et unus ego. 
Parce, precor, teneri cum sis Deus ales amoris, 

Pugnent officio nee tua facta tuo. 
Jam tuus certe est mihi formidabilis arcus, 

Nate dea, jaculis nee minus igne potens : 
Et tua fumabunt nostris altaria donis, 

Solus et in superis tu mihi summus eris. 
Deme meos tandem, verum nee deme, furores, 

Nescio cur, miser est suaviter omnis amans : 
Tu modo da facilis, posthaec mea siqua futura csa, 

Cuspis amaturos %at ut una duos. 



ILec ego mente olim lseva, studioque supino, 

Nequitiae posui vana trophssa mese. 
Scilicet abreptum sic me malus impulit error, 

Indocilisque astas prava magistra fuit. 
Donee Socraticos umbrosa Academia rivos 

Prsebuit, admissum dedocuitque jugum, 
Protinus extinctis ex illo tempore flainmis, 

Cincta rigent multo pectora nostra gelu. 
Unde suis frigus metuit puer ipse sagittis, 

Et Diomedeam vim timet ippa Venus 



^ — ^^4 



Kb * — *tp* 



S4i 



%ipttratatotn fxki 



IN PRODITIONEM BOMBARDICAM. 

Cum simul in regem nuper satrapasque Britannci 

Ausus es infandum, periide Fauxe, nefas, 
Fallor? An et mitis voluisti ex parte videri, 

Et pensare mala cum pietate scelus ? 
Scilicet hos alti missurus ad atria cceli, 

Sulphureo curru flammivolisque rotis. 
Qualiter ille feris caput inviolabile Parcis 

Liquit Tordanios turbine raptus agros. 



IN EANDEM. 

Siccine tentasti coelo donasse Iacobum 

Quae septemgemino Bellua monte lates? 
Ni meliora tuum poterit dare munera nuinen, 

Parce precor donis insidiosa tuis. 
Ille quidem sine te consortia serus adivit 

Astra, nee inferni pulveris usus ope 
Sic potius foedos in ccelum pelle cucullos, 

Et quot habet brutos Eoma profana Deos, 
Nainque hac aut alia nisi quemque adjuvens artej 

Crede milii, coeli vix bene scandet iter 



IN EANDEM, 

jPurgatorem aniime derisit Iiicobus ignem. 

Et sine quo superiirn non adeunda domus. 
Frenduit hoc trina monstrum Latiale corona, 

Movit et horrificum cornua dena minax. 



4> 



*&*- ^ 



542 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKI^ 

Et nee inultus, ait, temnes mea sacia Britanne 

Supplicium spreta religione dabis. 
Et si stelligeras unquain penetraveris arces, 

Non nisi per fiammas triste patebit iter. 
O quam funesto cecinisti proxima vevo, 

Verbaque ponderibus vix caritura suis ! 
Nam prope Tartareo sublime rotatus ab igni 

Ibat ad setbereas umbra perusta plagas. 



IN EANDEM. 

Quem modo Boina suis devoverat impia dins, 
Et Styge damnarat Taenarioque siuu, 

Hunc vice mutata jam tollere gestit ad astra, 
Et cupit ad superos evehere usque Deos. 



IN INVENTOREM BOMBARDS. 

Iapetionidem laudavit caeca vetustas, 
Qui tulit setheream solis ab axe facem ; 

At mihi major erit, qui lurida creditur arms, 
Et trifidum fulmen surripuisse Jovi. 



AI> ^EONOKAJVI ROMiE CANENTEM. 

Angetus unicuique suus (sic credite gentes) 

Obtigit aetbeieis ales ab ordinibus. 
Quid mirum, Leonora, tibi si gloria major? 

Nam tua prasseniem vox sonat ipsa Deuni. 
Aut Deus, aut vacui certe mens tertia coeli, 

Per tua secreto guttura serpit a gens ; 
Serpit age 11s, facilisque docet mortalia corda 

Sensim immortali assuescere posse sono. 
Quod si cuncta quidem Deus est, per cunetaquc f.jsua 

Ta te una loouitur, cestera mutus habet 



<«> 



*©+ 



. ^j 

EPIGRAMMA TUM LIBER. 543 



AD EANDEM. 

Altera Torquatum cepit Leonora poetam 

Cnjus ab insano cessit amore furons. 
Ah miser ille tuo quantc- felicius aevo 

Perditus, et propter te, Leonora, foret I 
Et te Pieria sensisset voce canentem 

Aurea maternsB fila movere lyrae : 
Quamvis Dircaeo torsisset lumina Pentheo 

Ssevior, aut totus desipuisset iners, 
Tu tamen errantes ca?ca vertigine sensus 

Voce eadem poteras cornposuisse tua ; 
Et poteras, segro spirans sub eorde, quietein 

Flexaninio cantu restituisse sibi. 



AD EANDEM. 

Credula quid liquidam Sirena Neapoli jactas, 

Claraque Partlienopes fana Acheloiados, 
Littoreamque tua defunctam Naiada ripa, 

Corpora Chalcidico sacra dedisse rogo ? 
Jlla quidem vivitque, et anioena Tibridis un la 

Mutavit rauci murmura Pausilipi. 
Illic Romulidum studiis ornata secundis. 

Atque homines cantu detinet atque Deos. 



ADOLOGUS DE EUSTICO ET HEEOJ 

Rusttcus ex malo sapidissima poma quotannis 

Legit, et urbano lecta declit Domino : 
Hinc incredibili fructiis dulcedine captus, 

Malum ipsam in proprias transtulit areolas. 
Mactenus ilia ferax, sed longo debilis svo, 

Mota solo assueto, protmus aret iners. 
Quod tandem ut patuit Domino, spe lusus inani, 

Damnayit celeres in sua damna manus. 
Atque ait, " Heu quanto satius fuit ilia Coloni 

(Parva licet) gi'ato dona tulisse animo \ 
Possem ego avaritiam fraenare, gulamque voracem 

Nunc periere mihi et foetus, et ipse parens." 



1 Added fu the edition of 1673. 



I 
^ H^. 



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544 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



j&Hram I ifer. 



!N OBITUM PRO0ANCELX.AHII MEDICL* 

Anno JEi&tis, 18. 

Parere fati discite legibus, 

Manusque Parcae jam date supplices, 
Qui pendulum telluris orbem 

Iapeti colitis nepotes. 
Vos si relicto mors vaga Taenaro 
Semel vocarit flebilis, heu morae 
Tentantur incassum dolique ; 

Per tenebras Stygis ire certum est. 
Si destinatam pellere dextera 
Mortem valeret, non ferus Hercules, 
Nessi venenatus craore 
iEmathia jacuisset Oeta, 
Nee fraude turpi Palladis invidas 
Vidisset occisum Ilion Hectora, aut 
Quern larva Pelidis peremit 
Ease Locro, Jove lacrymante. 
Si triste fatum verba Hecateia 
Fugare possint, Telegoni parens 
Vixisset infamis, potentique 
iEgiali soror usa virga. 
enque trinum fallere si queant 
Artes medentum, ignotaque gramina, 
Non gnarus lierbarum Machaon 
Eurypyli cecidisset basta. 

* Dr. John Goslyn, Master of Caius College, and the king's j..rofet« 
*or of physic, who died when he was a second time vice chancellor 
*a Ontoher, 1 626. So that the date of Milton's age is wronsc. 



4 



4> 



IN QT7INTUM NOVEMBRI& 

Anno zEtatis 17. 

jTam pius extreina veniens Iacobus ab arcto 
Teucrigenas populos, lateque patentia regna 
Albionum tenuit, jam que inviolabile foedus 
Sceptra Caledoniis conjunxerat Anglica Scotiss 
Pacificusque iioyo, felix divesque, sedebat 
In solio, occultique doli securus et bostis : 
Cum ferns igninuo regnans Acheronte tyrannue, 
Eumenidum pater, getbereo vagus exul Olympo,. 
Forte per immensum terrarum erraverat orbem, 
Dinumerans sceleris socios, vemasque fideles, 
Participes regni post funera moesta futuros; 
Hie tempe states medio ciet aere diras, 
Illic unanimes odium struit inter amicos, 
Arraat et invictas m mutua viscera gentes ;, 



+&* 



SYL FAR UM LIBER. ^45 

Lassisset et nee te, Pbilyrew, 
Sagitta Echidnas perlita sanguine, 
Nee tela te fulmenque avitum 
Case puer genitricis alvo 
Tuque alumno major Apolline, 
Gentis togatse cui regimen datum, 
Frondosa quern nunc Cirrha luget, 
Et mediis Helicon in undis, 
Jam prsefuisses Palladio gregi 
Lsetus, superstes, nee sine gloria, 
Nee puppe lustrasses Gbaronti3 
Honibiles baratbri recessua. 
At fila rupit Perssphone tua, 
Irata, cum te viderit, artibus, 
Succoque poilenti. tot atris 
Faucibus eripuisse mortis. 
Colende Prseses, membra precor tua 
Molli quiescant cespite, et ex tuo 
Crescant rosae caltbaeque busto, 
Purpureoque hyacinthus ore. 
Sit mite de te judicium iEaci, 
Bubrideatque iEtusea Proserpina, 
Interque felices perennis 
Elysio spatier^ campo. 



%/* 









MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS* 

Regnaque olivifera vertit florentia pace : 
Et quoscnnque videt pui'se virtutis amantes, 
Hos cupit adjicere imperio, fraudurnque magistei 
Tectat inaccessum sceleri corrumpere pectus, 
Insidiasque locat tacitas, cassesque latentes 
Tendit, ut iucautos rapiat, seu Caspia tigvis 
Insequitur trepidam deserta per avia praedain 
flocte sub illuni, et somno nict-antibus astris. 
Talibus infestat populos Summanus et urbes, 
Cinctus ceruleas fumanti turbine flammae, 
Jamque fluentisonis albentia rupibus arva 
Apparent, et terra deo dilecta marino, 
Cui nomen dederat quondam Neptunia proles, 
Amphitryoniaden qui non dubitavit atrocem, 
iEquore tranato, furiali poscere bello, 
Ante expugnatse crudelia ssecula Trojae. 

At simul banc opibusque et festa pace beatam 
Aspicit, et pingues donis Cerealibus agros, 
Quodque magis doluit, venerantem nuniina veri 
Sancta Dei populuni, tandem suspiria rupit 
Tartareos ignes et luridum olentia sulphur; 
Qualia Trinacria trux ab Jove clausus in iEtna 
Efflat tabifico nionstrosus ob ore Typhosus. 
Ignescunt oculi, stridetque adamantinus ordo 
Dentis, ut armorum fragor, ictaque cuspide cuspij 
Atque " Pererrato solum hoc lacrymabile mundo 
Inveni," dixit, " gens hsec mihi sola rebellis, 
Contemtrixque jugi, nostraque potentior arte. 
Ilia tamen, mea si quicquam tentamina possant, 
Non feret hoc impune diu, non ibit inulta." 
Hactenus; et piceis liquido natat aere pennis; 
Qua volat, ad ?ersi praecursant agmine venti, 
Densantur nubes, et crebra tonitrua fulgent. 

Jamquo pruinosas velox superaverat Alpes, 
Et tenet Ausoniaa fines : a parte sinistra 
Nimbifer Appenninus erat, priscique Sabini, 
Dextra veneficiis infamis Hetruria, nee non 
Te furtiva, Tibris, Thetidi videt oscula dantem : 
Hinc Mavortigenae consistit in arce Quirini. 
Reddiderant dubiam jam sera crepuscula luceri:-- 
Cum circumgreditur totam Tricoronifer urbera 
"Panificosque deos portat, scapulisque virorum 
Evehitur, praeeunt submisso poplite reges, 
Et mendicantum series longissima fratrum ; 



^ 



$. 



4 



.S KZ: F^i? UM LIBER. 547 

Cereaque in manibus gestant funalia cseci, 
Cimmeriis nati in tenebris, vitamque trahentea. 
Templa dein multis subeunt lucentia tsedis 
(Vesper erat «acer iste Petro) fremitusque eanenturn 
Ssepe tbolos implet vacuos, et inane locorum. 
Jualiter exululat Bromius, Broraiique caterva, 
Orgia cantantes in Ecliionio A; acyntho, 
Dum tremit attonitus vitreis Asopus in undis. 
Et procul ipse cava responsat rupe Cithaeron. 

His igitur tandem solenni more peractis, 
Nox senis amplexus Erebi taciturna reliquit, 
Prsecipitesque impellit equos stimulante nagello, 
Captnm oculis Typhlonta, Melancbaetemque feroceis* 
Atque Acberontaso prognatam patre Siopen 
Torpidam, et hirsutis horrentem Phrica capiilis. 

Interea regum domitor, Phlegetontius baeres 
Ingreditur tt alamos (neqne enhn secretus adulter 
Producit steriles molli sine pellice noctes), 
At vix compositos somnus claudebat ocellos, 
Cum niger umbrarum dominus, rectorque silentum, 
Preedatorque bominum, falsa sub imagine tectus 
Astitit, assumptis micuerunt tempora canis, 
Barba sinus promissa tegit, cineracea longo 
Syrmate verrit humum vestis, pendetque cucullua 
Vertice de raso, et ne quicquam desit ad artes, 
Cannabeo lumbos constrinxit fime salaces, 
Tarda fenestratis figens vestigia calceis. 
Talis, uti fama est, vasta Franciscus eremo 
Tetra vagabatur solus per lustra ferarum, 
Sylvestrique tulit genti pia verba salutis 
Impius, atque lupos domuit, Libycosque laones. 

Subdolus at tali Serpens velatus amictu 
Solvit in lias fallax ora execrantia voces; 
Dormis, nate ? Etiamne tuos sopor opprimit artua * 
Immemor O fidei, pecorumque oblite tuorum ! 
Bum catbedram venerande tuam, diademaque triples 
Bidet Hyperboreo gens barbara nata sub axe, 
Dumque pbaretrati spernunt tua jura Britanni : 
Surge, age, surge piger, Latius quern Csesar adorat 
Cul reserala patet convexi janua cceli, 
Turgentes amnios, efc fastus frange procaces^ 
Sacrilegique scianfc, tua quid maledictio possit, 
Et quid Apostolicse possit custodia clavis ; 
Et Cieuior Hesperise disjectam uktsesra classeit. 



- >ii* 



4 



548 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Mersa^e Iberorum lato vexilla prcfundo, 
Sanctorumque cruci tot corpora fixa probrosso, 
Thermodoontea nuper regnante paella. 
At tu si tenero mavis torpescere lecto, 
Crescentesque negas hosti contendere vires, 
Tyrrhenum implebit numeioso milite pontum, 
Signaque Aventino ponet fulgentia colle : 
JReliquias vetsrum franget, flammisque cremablt, 
Sacraque calcabit pedibus tua colla profanis, 
Cujus gaudsbant soleis dare basia reges. 
Nee tamen hunc bellis et aperto Marte lacesses, 
Xrritus ille labor; tu callidus utere fraude • 
Quselibet haereticis disponere retia fas est. 
Jam que ad consilium extremis rex magnus ab oris 
Patricios vocat, et procerum de stirpe creatos. 
Grandsevosque patres trabea, canisque verendos ; 
Hos tu membratim poteris conspergere in auras, 
Atque dare in cineres, nitrati pulveris igne 
JEdibus injectc, qua convenere, sub imis. 
Protinus ipse igitur quoscunque habet Anglia fidos 
Propositi, factique mone : quisquarnne tuorum 
Audebit summi non jussa facessere Papas? 
Perculsosque metu subito, casuque stupentes 
Invadat vei Gallus atrox, vel ssevus Iberus, 
Saecula sic illic tandem Mariana redibunt, 
Tuque in belligeros iterum dominaberis Anglos 
Et nequicl timeas, divos divasque secundas 
Accipe, quotque tuis celebrantur numina fastis. 
Dixit, et adscitos ponens malefidus amictus 
Fugit ad infandam, regnum illeetabile, Letben. 

Jam rosea Eoas, pandens Titlionia portas, 
Vestit inauratas redeunti lumine terras : 
Mo3sta<)ue adhuc nigri deplorans funera nati 
Irrigat ambrosiis montana caoumina guttis ; 
Cum sornnos pepulit stellatee janitor aula?, 
Nocturnos visas, et somnia grata revolvens. 1 

Est locus seterna septus caligine noctis, 
Vasta ruinosi quondam fundamina tecti, 
Nunc torvi spelunca Phoni, Prodotseque biiingnis., 
Effera quos uno peperit Discordia partu. 
Hie inter cssmenta jacent prasruptaque saxa, 
Ossa inhumata virum. et trajecta cadavera ferro 
Hie Dolus intortis semper sedet ater ocellis 
1 Forsan— res<A\wii3. 



<> 



& 



SYL VARUM LIBER. 549 

Jurgiaque, efc stimulis armata Calumma fauces, 

Et Furor, atque viae moriendi mille videnfcur, 

Et Timor, exsanguisque locum circumvolat Horror, 

Perpetuoque leves per muta silentia Manes 

Exululant, tellus et sanguine conscia stagnat. 

Ipsi etiam pavidi latitant penetralibus antri 

Et Phonos, et Prodotes, nulloque sequente per aiifruih 

Antrum horrens, scopulosum, atrum feralibus umMe 

DifFugiunt sontes, et retro lnmina vortunt ; 

Hos pugiles Romas per sascula longa fideles 

Evoc-at antistes Babylonius, atque ita fatur: 

" Finibus occiduis circumfusum incolit sequoT 
Gens exosa milii, prudens natura negavit 
Indignam penitus nostro conjungere mundo : 
llluc, sic jubeo, celeri contendite gressu, 
Tartareoque leves difflentur pulvere in auras 
Et rex et par iter satrapae, scelerata propago : 
Et quotquot fidei caluere cupidine verae, 
Consilii socios adhibete, operisque ministi*03 ' 
Finierat, rigidi cupide paruere gemelli. 

Interea longo flectens curvamine ccelos 
Despicit aetherea dominus qui fulgurat arce 
Vanaque perversae ridet conamina turbse, 
Atque sui causam populi volet ipse tueri. 

Esse ferunt spatium, qua distat ab Aside terra 
Fertilis Europe, et spectait Mareotidas undas ; 
Hie turns posita est Titanidos ardua Famae, 
jErea, lata, sonans, rutilis vicinior astris 
Quam superimpositum vel Athos vel Pelion Ossss. 
Mille fores aditusque patent, totidemque fenestras, 
Amplaque per tenues translucent atria muros : 
Excitat hie varios plebs agglomerata susurros ; 
Qualiter instrepitant circum mulctroJia bombi§ 
Agmina muscarmn, aut texto per ovilia junco, 
Hum Canis aestivum coeli petit ardua culmen. 
Ipsa quidem summa sedet ultrix matris in arce. 
Auribus innumeris cinctum caput eminet olli, 
Queis sonitum exiguum trahit, atque levissima capiat 
Murmura, ab extremis patuli conflnibus orbis. 
Nee tot, Aristoride servator inique juvencse 
Isidos, immiti volvebas lumina vultu, 
Luruina non imquam tacito nutantia somno 
Lumina subjectas late spectantia terras. 
Istls : Ua solet loca luce carentia ssepe 



* 



f 



550 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 

Perkistrare, etiam radianti impervia soli : 
Millenisque loquax auditaque visaque Unguis 
Cuilibet effundit temeraria, veraque mendax 
Nunc minuit, modo confictis sermonibus augete 

Sed tamen a nostro meruisti carmine laudes 
Fama, bonum quo non aliud veracius ullum, 
Nobis digna cani, nee te memorasse pigebit 
Carmine tarn longo, servati scilicet Angli 
Officiis vaga diva tuis, tibi reddimus sequa. 
Te Deus, eeternos motu qui temperat ignes, 
Fulmine pra3misso alloquitur, terraque tremente ? 
" Fama, siles ? An te latet impia Papistarum 
Conjurata cohors in meque meosque Britannos, 
Et nova sceptrigero caedes meditata lacobo ? 
Nee plura, ilia statim sensit mandata Tonantis, 
Et satis ante fugax, stridentes induit alas, 
Induit et variis exilii corpora plumis ; 
Dextra tubam gestat Temesseo ex sere sonoram. 
Nee mora, jam pennis cedentes remigat auras, 
Atque parum est cursu celeres prsevertere nubes, 
Jam ventos, jam solis equos post terga reliquit: 
Et primo Angliacas, solito de more, per urbes 
Ambiguas voces, incertaque muimura spargit, 
Mox argsta dolos, et detestabile vulgat 
Proditionis opus, nee non facta horrida dictu, 
Authoresque addit sceleris, nee garrula csecis 
Insidiis loca structa silet ; stupuere relatis, 
Et pariter juvenes, pariter tremuere puellse, 
Effoetique senes pariter, tantseque ruinse 
Sensus ad setatem subito penetraverat omnem 

Attamen interea populi miserescit ab alto 
-SIthereus Pater, et crudelibus obstitit ausis 
Papicolum ; capti poenas raptantur ad acres ; 
At pia thura Deo, et grati solvuntur bonores 5 
Compita l*eta focis genialibus omnia fumant , 
Turba cboros juvenilis agit : Quintoque Novembri; 
Nulla dies toto occurrit celebratior anno. 



^4. 



♦<$H H@4 

S YL FAR UM LIBER. 55 1 

IN OBITUM 1 PK^SULIS ELIENSIS. 
Anno ^Etatis 17. 

Adhuc madentes rore squalebant g?n©, 

Et sicca nonduni lumina 
Adhuc liquentis imbre turgebant salis, 

Quern nuper effudi pius, 
Bum moesta cliaro justa persolvi rogo 

Wintoniensis Praesulis. 
Cum centilinguis Fama (proh ! semper nialt 

Cladisque vera nuntia) 
Spargit per urbes divitis Britanniae, 

Populosque Neptuno satos, 
Cessisse morti, et ferreis sororibus 

Te, generis liumani decus, 
Qui rex sacrorum ilia fuisti in insula 

Quae nomen Anguillae tenet. 
Tunc inquietum pectus ira protinus 

Ebulliebat fervida, 
Tumulis potentem saspe devovens deam : 

Nee vota Naso in Ibida 
Concepit alto diriora pectore, 

Graiusque vates parcius 
Turpem Lycambis execratus est dolum, 

Sponsamque Neobulen suam. 
At ecce diras ipse dum fundo graves, 

Et imprecor neci necem, 
Audisse tales videor attonitus sonos 

Leni, sub aur&, flamine : 
" Caecos furores pone, pone vitreaffi 

Bilemque et irritas minas, 
Quid temere violas non nocenda nunr'jia. 

Subitoque ad iras percita ? 
Non est, ut arbitraris elusus miser, 

Mors atra Noctis filia, 
Erebove patre creta, sive Erinnye> 

Vastove nata sub Chao : 
Ast ilia ccelo missa stellato, Dei 

Messes ubique colligit ; 
Animasque mole camel reconditas 

In lucem et auras evocat; 

1 Nicholas Felton, who died October 5th, 1636, 



.$» 



^- — — *$* 

552 MIL TON'S FOE TICAL WORKS, 

Ut cum fugaces excitant Horee diem 

Themidos Jovisque iiliae ; 
Et sempite-rni ducit ad vultus patria; 

At justa raptat impios 
Sub regna furvi luctuosa Tartari, 

Sedesque subterraneas." 
fianc ut vocantem lostus audivi, cito 

Fcedum reliqui carcerem, 
Volatilesque faustus inter milites 

Ad astra sublimis fercr: 
Vates ut olim raptus ad caelum seuex 

Auriga currus ignei. 
Non me Bootis terruere lucidi 

Sarraca tarda frigore, ant 
Formidolosi Scorpionis brachia, 

Non ensis, Orion, tuus. 
Prsetervolavi fulgidi solis globum> 

Longeque sub pedibus deam 
Vidi triformem, dum coercebat suos 

Fraenis dracones aureis, 
Erraticorum siderum per ordines. 

Per lacteas vebor plagas, 
Velocitatem saepe miratus novam, 

Donee nitentes ad fores 
Ventum est Olympi, et regiam crystallibam, et 

Stratum smaragdis atrium. 
Sed hie tacebo, nam quis effari queat 

Oriundus humano patre 
Amoenitates illius loci ? Mini 

Sat est in ssternum frui. 



NATURAM NON FATI SENIUM, 

SIsu quam perpetuis erroribus acta fatiscit 

Avia mens hominum, tenebrisque immersa profundi^ 

CEdipodioniam volvit sub pectore noctem ! 

Quae vesana suis metiri facta deorum 

Audet, et incisas leges adamante perenni 

Assimilare suis, nulloque solubile saeclo 

Consilium fati perituris alligat horis. 

Ergone marcescet sulcantibus obsV:a ruglg 
Naturae facies, et rerum publica mater 
Dmniparum contracta uterum sterilescet ab ®vo t 



4 



4 



£■ 



SYL VARUM LIBER. 553 



it se fassa &enem, male certis passibus ibit 
>idereum tremebunda caput ? Num tetra vetustaa 
Innorumque aetema fames, squalorque situsque 
Sidera vexabunt ? An et insatiabile Tempus 
Esuriet Cesium, rapietque in viscera patrem? 
Hen, potuitne suas imprudens Jupiter arces 
Hoc contra munisse nefas, et Temporis isto 
JLxemisse malo, gyrosque dedisse perennes? 
Ergo erit ut quandoque sono dilapsa tremendo 
Convexi tabulata ruant, aNjue obvius ietu 
Stridat uterque polus, superaque ut Qlympius aul& 
Decidat, horribilisque retecta Gorgone Pallas; 
Qualis in iEgeam proles Junonia Lemnon 
Deturbata sacro cecidit de limine cceli ? 
Tu quoque, Pbcebe, tui casus imitabere nati; 
Praecipiti curru, subitaque ferere mina 
Pronus, et extincta fumabit lampade Nereus, 
Et dabit attonito feralia sibila ponto. 
Tunc etiam aerei divulsis sedibus Heerni 
Dissultabit apex, imoque allisa barathro 
Terrebunt Stygium dejecta Ceraunia Ditem, 
In superos quibus usus erat, fraternaque bella. 
At Pater omnipotens, fundatis fortius astris. 
Consuluit rerum summae, certoque peregit 
Pondere fatorum lances, atque ordine summo 
Singula perpetuum jussit servare tenorem. 
Volvitur hinc lapsu mundi rota prima diurno ; 
Raptat et ambitos socia vertigine ccelos. 
Tardior haud solito Saturnus, et acer ut olicr. 
Fulmineum rutilat cristata, casside Mavors. 
Floridus asternum Phoebus juvenile coruscat, 
Nee fovet efibetas loca per declivia terras 
Devexo temone Deus ; sed semper arnica 
Luce potens eadem currit per signa rotarum 
Surgit odoratis pariter formosus ab Indis, 
iEthereura pecus albenti qui eogit Olympo 
Mane voeans, et serus agens in pascua coel* 
Temporis et gemino dispertit regna colore. 
Fulget, obitque vices alterno Delia cornu, 
C senile umque ignem paribus compleotitur ulniu 
Nee variant elementa fidem, solitoque riagore 
Lurida perculsas jaculantur fulmina rupes. 
Nee per inane furit leviori murmure Corns, 
Stringit et armiferos sequali horrore Gelonop 



*■ 



4* 



4 



554 MILTON'S POETICAL WORK'S. 

Trux Aquilo, spiratque hyemem, nimlsosque volutat. 

Utque solet, Siculi diverberat ima Pelori 

Rex maris, at rauca cireumstrepit sequora concha. 

Ooeani Tubicen, nee vasta mole minorem 

iEgeomi ferunt dorso Balearica cete. 

Sed neque, Terra, tibi srecli vigor ille vetusti 

Priscus abest, servatque suum Narcissus odorem 

Et puer ille suum tenet et puer ille decorem, 

Phoebe, tuusque, et, Cypri, tuus ; nee ditior olim 

Terra datum sceleri celavit montibus aurum 

Oonscia, vel sub aquis gemmas. Sic denique in sevum 

I bit cunctarum series justissima rerum, 

Donee flamma orbem populabitar ultima, late 

Circumplexa polos, et vasti culmina coeli ; 

Ingentique rngo flagrabit machina nrnr.di. 



DE IDEA PLATONICA QUEMADMODUM ARISTOTELE8 
INTELLEXIT* 

Dicite, sacrorum praesides nemorum dese, 
Tuque, O noveni perbeata numinis 
Memoria mater, quseque in immenso procul 
&ntro recumbis otiosa iEternitas, 
VEonumenta servans, et ratas leges Jovis, 
&elique fastos atque ephemeridas Deurn, 
Quis ille primus cujus ex imagine 
Natura solers finxit humanum genus, 
iEternus, mcorruptus, sequsevus polo, 
Unusque et universus, exemplar Dei ? 
Haud ille Palladis gemellus innub® 
Interna proles insidet menti Jovis; 
Sed quamlibet natura sit communior, 
Tamen seorsus extat ad morem unius, 
Et, mira, certo stringitur spatio loci; 
6eu sempiternus ille siderum conies 
Coeli pererrat ordines deoemplicis, 
Citimumve terris incolit lunss globum ; 
Sive inter an i mas corpus adituras sedena 
Obliviosas torpet ad Lethes aquas ; 
Bive in remota forte terrarum plaga 
Incedit ingens liominis archetypus gigas, 
Et diis tremendus *\rigit celsum caput 



i 



^ 



SYLVARUM LIBER. 555 

Atlante major portitore siderum. 

Non cui profundum csecitas lumen dedifc 

Dircseus augur vidit hunc alto sinu ; 

Non hunc silente nocte Pleiones nepos 

Vatum sagaci prsepes ostendit choro ; 

Non hunc sacerdos novit Assyrius, licet 

Longos vetusti commemoret atavos Nini, 

Priscumque Belon, inclytumque Osiridem. 

Non ille trino gloriosus nomine 

Ter magnus Hermes (ut sit arcani sciens) 

Talem reliquit Isidis cultoribus. 

At tu, perenne ruris Academi decus 

(Hrec monstra si tu primus induxti scholis), 

Jam jam poetas, urbis exules tuae, 

Revocabis, ipse fabulator maximus, 

Aut institute* ipse migrabis foras. 



AD PATKEM. 

Nunc mea Pierios cupiam per pectora fontes 
Jrriguas torquere vias, totumque per ora 
Volvere laxatum gemino de vertice rivum ; 
ill tenues oblita sonos audacibus alls 
Surgat in ofricium venerandi Musa parentis 
Hoc utcunque tibi gratum, pater optime, carmea 
Exiguum meditatur opus, nee novimus ipsi 
Aptius a nobis quae possint munera donis 
Respondere tuis, quamvis nee maxima possint 
Respondere tuis, nedum ut par gratia donis 
Esse queat, vacuis quae redditur aricla verbis. 
Sed tamen base nostros ostendit pagina census, 
Et quod habemus opum charta numeravimus ista, 
Quae mibi sunt nullae, nisi quas dedit aurea Clio, 
Quas mihi semoto somni peperere sub antro, 
Et nemons laureta sacri Parnassides umbras. 
Nee tu vatis opus divinum despice carmen, 
Quo nihil aeihereos ortus, et semina coeli, 
Nil magi s humanam commendat origine mentem. 
Bancta Promethe-83 retinens vestigia laminae. 
Carmen anient superi, tremebundaque Tartara carmei 
Tma eiere valet, tlivosaue iigrare Dvofuxido^ 



fy ^ 



♦^ 



* 



556 MIL TON 'S POE TICAL WORKS. 

Et triplici duros Manes adamante coercet 
Carmine sepositi retegunt arcana futuri 
Phoebades, et tremulae pallentes ora Sibyllae, 
Darmina sacrificus sollennes pangit ad aras, 
Aurea sen sternit motantem cornua taurum; 
Seu cum fata sagax fumantibus abdita fibris 
Consulit, et tepidis Parcam scrutatur in extis 
Nos etiam patrium tunc cum repetemus Olympian^ 
M terns que mores stabunt immobilis sevi, 
Ibimus auratis per coeli templa coronis, 
Dulcia suaviloquo sociantes carmina plectro, 
Astra quibus, geminique poli convexa sonabunt 
Spiritus et rapidos qui circinat igneus orbes, 
Nunc quoque sidereis intercinit ipse cboreis 
Immortale melos, et inenarrabile carmen ; 
Torrida dum rutilus compescit sibila serpens, 
Demissoque ferox gladio mansuescit Orion ; 
Stellarum nee sentit ouun Maurusius Atlas. 
Carmina regales epulas onjare solebant, 
Cum nondum luxus, vastssque immensa vorago 
Nota guise, et modico spumabat coena Lyaeo. 
Turn de more sedens festa ad convivia Yates, 
ZEsculea intonsos redimitus ab arbore crines, 
Heroumque actus, imitandaque gesta canebat, 
Et chaos, et positi late fundamina mundi, 
Eeptantesque deos, et alentes numina glandes, 
Et nondum iEtnsso quaesitum fulmen ab antro 
Denique quid vocis modulamen inane juvabit, 
Verborum sensusque vacans, numerique loquacis* 
Silvestres decet iste choros, non Orphea cantus, 
Qui tenuit fluvios et quercubus addidit aures 
Carmine, non cithara, simulachraque functa eanjsiids 
Compulit in lacrymas ; habet has a carmine laud^a 

Nee tu perge, precor, sacras contemnere Musas, 
Nee vanas inopesque puta, quarum ipse peritus 
Munere, mille sonos numeros componis ad aptos, 
Millibus et vocem modulis variare canoram 
Doctus, Arionii merito sis nominis hseres. 
Nunc tibi quid mirum, si me genuisse poetam 
Contigerit, charo si tam propb sanguine juncti 
Cognatas artes, studiumque affine sequamur ? 
Ipse volens Phoebus se dispertire duobus, 
Altera dona mihi, dedit altera dona parenti, 
Dividuuinque Deum genitorque puerque tenemu§ 



•9* 



*<&«- 



JT^ 



SYL VARUM LIBER. 557 

Tu tamen ut simules teneras odisse Camoenas, 
Non odisse reor, neque enim, pater, ire jubebas 
Qua via lata patet, qua pronior area lucri, 
Certaque condendi fulget spes aurea numrui : 
Nee rapis ad leges, mate custoditaque gentis 
Jura, nee insulsis damnas clamoribus aures : 
Sed magis excultam cupiens ditescere mentem, 
Me procul urbano strepitu, secessibus altis 
Abductum, Aoniae jucunda per otia ripae, 
Phcebseo lateri comitem sinis ire beatum. 
Officium cliari taceo commune parentis, 
Me poscunt majora: tuo, pater optime, sumpta 
Cum mihi Romuleae patuit facundia linguae, 
Et Latii veneres, et quae Jo vis ora decebant 
Grandia magniloquis elata vocabula Graiis, 
Addere suasisti quos jactat Gallia flores, 
Et quam degeneri novus Italus ore loquelam 
Fundit, barbaricos testatus voce tumultus, 
Quaeque Palsestinus loquitur mysteria vates. 
Denique quicquid habet caelum, subjectaque coelo 
Terra parens, terraeque et ccelo interfluus aer, 
Quicquid et unda tegit, pontique agitabile marmol, 
Per te nosse licet, per te, si nosse libebit. 
Dimotaque venit spectanda scientia nube, 
Nudaque conspicuos inclinat ad oscula vultus, 
Ni fugisse velim, ni sit libasse molestum. 

I nunc, confer opes, quisquis malesanus avitaa 
Austriaci gazas, Periianaque regna, jn-aeoptas. 
Quae potuit majora pater tribuisse, vel ipse 
Jupiter, excepto, donasset ut omnia, ccelo ? 
Non potiora dedit, quamvis et tuta fuissent, 
Publica qui juveni commisit lumina nato 
Atque Hyperionios currus, et fraena diei, 
Et circum undantem radiata luce tiaram. 
Ergo ego jam doctae pars quamlibet ima caterv® 
Victrices hederas inter, laurosque sedebo, 
Jamque nee obscurus populo miscebor inerti 
Vitabuntque oculos vestigia nostra profanos. 
Este procul vigiles curae, procul este querela3, 
Invidiaeque acies transverso tortilis birquo, 
Saeva nee anguiferos extende calumnia rictus; 
In me triste nihil fcedissima turba potestis. 
Nee vestri sum juris ego ; securaque tutus 
Pectora, vipereo gradiar sublimis ab ictu 



Hit * 



+& 



4 



558 MIL TON 'S POE TICAL WORKS, 

At fcibi, chare pater, postquam non eequa merenti 
Posse referre datiir, nee dona rependere factis, 
Sit memorasse satis, repetitaque munera grato 
Percensere ammo, fidseque reponere menti. 

Et vos, nostri, juvenilia carmina, lusus, 
Si modo perpetuos sperare audebitis annos, 
Et domini superesse rogo, lucemque tueri, 
Nee spisso rapient oblivia nigra sub Oreo, 
Forsitan has laudes, decantatumque parentis 
Nomen, ad exemplum, sero gervabitis sevo. 



*& 



ID SALSILLUM, tOETAM EOMANUM, -fflGB^TANTEM. 

SCAZONTES. 

Musa gressiun quae volens trahis claudum, 
Vulcanioque tarda gaudes incessu, 
Nee sentis illud in loco minus gratum, 
Quam cum decentes flava Deiope suras 
Alternat aureum ante Junonis lectum, 
Adesdum et haec s' is verba pauca Salsillo 
Refer, Camoena nostra cui tantum est cordi, 
Quamque ille magnis praetulit immerito divis 
Ha3c ergo alumnus ille Londini Milto, 
Diebus hisce qui suum linquens nidum 
Polique tractum (pessimus ubi ventorum, 
Insanientis impotensque pulmonis, 
Pernix anhela sub Jove exercet flabra), 
Venit feraces Itali soli ad glebas, 
Visum superba cognitas urbes fama 
Virosque doctseque indolem juventutis. 
Tibi optat idem hie fausta multa Salsille, 
Habitumque fesso corpori penitus sanum , 
Cui nunc profunda bilis infestat renes, 
Prsecordiisque fixa damnosum spirat. 
Nee id pepercit impia quod tu Eomano 
Tarn cultus ore Lesbium condis melos. 

O dulce divum munus, Salus, Hebes 
Grermana ! Tuque Phoebe morborum terror. 
Pythone caeso, sive tu magis Paean 
Libenter audis, hie tuus sacerdos est 
Querceta Fauni, vosque rore vinoso 
Colles benigni, mitis Evandri sedes, 



-4 



e&U 



S YL VARUM LIBER. 559 

Si quid sal u ore vallibus frondet vestris, 
Lev amen aegro ferte certatim vati. 
Sic ille eharis redditus rursum Musis 
Vicina dulci prata mulcebit cantu. 
Ipse inter atros emirabitur lucos 
Numa, ubi beatum degit otium seternum 
Suam reclinis semper iEgeriam spectans. 
Tumidusque et ipse Tibris, bine delinitus, 
Spei favebit annuae colonorum : 
Nee in sepulcliris ibit obsessum reges 
Nimium sinistro laxus irruens loro : 
Sed fraena melius temperabit undarum, 
Adusque curvi salsa regna Portumni. 



MANSUS. 

Joannes Baptista Mansus Marchio Villensis, vir ingenii laude, turn 
litterarum studio, nee non et bellica virtute, apud Italos clarus ir 
trimis est. Ad quern Torquati Tassi Dialogus extat de Amicitii 
fccriptus; erat eniin Tassi amicissimus ; ab quo etiam inter Campania 
principes celebratur, in illo poeniate cui titulus Gerusalemme Con« 
quistata, lib. 20 — 

" Fra cavalier magnanimi, e cortesi 
Eisplende il Manso " — 

is autborem Neapoli commorantem summa benevolentia prosecutus 
est, muitaque ei detulit bunianitatis officia. Ad bunc itaque hospep 
Ule antequam ab ea urbe discederet, ut ne ingratum se ostendere't, 
*oc carmen misit. 

ILec quoque, Manse, tuae meditantur carmina laudi 
Pierides, tibi, Manse, choro notissime Phcsbi, 
Quandoquidem ille alium baud aequo est dignatus honon 
Post Galli cineres, et Mecamatis Hetrusci. 
Tu quoque, si nostrae tantum valet aura Camoena, 
Victvices hederas inter, laurosque sedebis. 
Te pridem magno felix concordia Tasso 
Junxit, et aeternis insciipsit nomina chartis : 
Mox tibi duleiloquum non inscia Musa MarimiHi 
Tradidit, ille tuum dici se gaudet alumnum, 
Dum canit Assyrios divum prolixus amores ; 
Mollis et Ausonias stupefecit carmine nymphas. 
Ille itidem moriens tibi soli debita vates 
O&sa, tibi soli, supremaque vota relitjuit : 



A* 



w- 



360 MILTOK 'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Nee manes pietas tua cliara fefellit amici, 

Vidimus arridentem operoso ex sere poetam. 

Nee satis hoc visum est in utrumque, et nee pu GSisant, 

Oilicia in tumulo, cupis integros rapere Oreo, 

Qua potes, atque avidas Parcarum eludere leges ' 

Amborum genus, et varia sub forte peractam 

Describis vitam, moresque, et dona Minervas; 

iEinulus illius Mycalen qui natus ad altam 

Rettulit iEolii vitam facundus Homeri. 

Ergo ego te, Cliiis et magni nomine Phoebi, 

Manse pater.. /jubeo lengum salvere per aevum 

Missus Hyperboreo juvenis peregrinus ab axe. 

Nee tu longinquam bonus aspernabare Musam, 

Qu© nuper gelida vix enutrita sub Arcto 

Imprudens Italas ausa est volitare per urbes. 

Nos etiam in nostro modulantes flumine cygnos 

Credimus obscuras noctis sensisse per umbras, 

Qua Thamesis late puris argenteus urnis 

Oceani glaucos perfundit gurgite crines : 

Quin et in has quondam pervenit Tityrus oras. 

Sed neque nos gsnus incultum, nee inutile Phooba 
Qua plaga septeno mundi sulcata Trione 
Brumalem patitur longa, sub nocte Booten. 
Nos etiam colimus Phcebum, nos munera Phcebo 
Flaventes spicas, et lutea mala canistris, 
Halantemque crocum (pcrhibet nisi vana vetustasi 
Misimus, et lectas Druidum de gente choreas. 
(Gens Druides antiqua sacris operata deorum 
Heroum laudes imitandaque gesta canebant) 
ttinc quoties festo cingunt altaria cantu, 
Delo in herbosa, GraiaB de more puellae, 
Canninibus leetis memorant Corineida Loxo, 
Fatidicainque Upm, cum flavicoma Hecaergc, 
Nuda Caledonio variatas peetora fuco. 

Fortunate senex, ergo, quacunque per orbem 
Torquati decus, et nomen eelebrabitur ingens, • 
Claraque perpetui succrescet fama Marini, 
Tu quoque in ora frequens venies plausumque monnn. 
Et parili carpes iter immortale Volatu. 
Picetur turn sponte tuos habitasse penates 
Cynthius, et famulas venisse ad limina Musas : 
At non sponte domum tamen idem, et regis adivit 
Bui a Php^etiadee coelo fugitivus Apollo ; 
Tile licvt magnum Alciden susceperat hospes ; 



*• 



t 



L 



SYLVARUM LIBER. 561 

Tantum ubi clarnosos placuit vitare bubulcos, 
Nobile mansueti cessit Cliironis in antrum, 
Xrriguos inter saltus, frondosaque tecta, 
Peneium prope rivum : ibi ssepe sub ilice nigra, 
Ad citharse strepituui, blanda piece victus amici 
Exiiii duros lenibat voce labores. 
Turn neque ripa suo, barathro nee fixa sub imo 
Saxa stetere loco, nutat Tiachinia rapes, 
Nee sentit solitas, imniania pondera, silvas. 
Emotasque snis properant de collibus orni, 
Mulcenturque novo maculosi carmine rynceB, 
Diis dilecte senex, te Jupiter sequus oportet 
.^ascentem, et miti lustrarit lumine Phoebus, 
Atlantisque nepos; neque enim nisi ciiarus ab ortu 
Diis superis poterit maguo favisse poetae 
Hinc longrava tibi lento sub flore senectus 
Vernat, et iEsonios lucratur vivida fusos, 
Nondurn. deciduos servans tibi frontis honores, 
Inge nium que vigens, et adult am mentis acumen. 
O milii si mea sors talem concedat amicum, 
Phcebseos decorasse viros qui tam bene norit, 
Si quando indigenas revocabo in carmina reges, 
Arturumque etiara sub terris bella moventem , 
Aut dicam invictas sociali fcedere mensas 
Magnanimos heroas, et (0 modo spiritus adsit!) 
Frangam Saxonicas Britonum sub Marte phalanges 
Tandem ubi non tacitas permensus tempora vitss, 
Annorumque satur, cineri sua jura relinquam 
Ille mihi lecto maclidis astaret ocellis, 
Astanti sat erit si dicam sim tibi curaa 
Ille meos artus, liventi morto solutoa, 
Curaret parva com])oni molliter urna. 
Forsitan et nostros ducat de marmore vultus, 
Nectens aut PapLia rnvrti aut Parnasside lauri 
Fronde comas, at ego secura pace quiescam. 
Turn quoqup ; si qua fides, si prgBmia certa bonorum, 
Ipse ego ccelicolum semotus in gethera divum, 
Quo labor et meus pura vehunt, atque ignea virtus, 
Secreti base aliqua mundi de parte videbo 
(Quantum fata sinunt) : et tota mente serenum 
Ridens pui-pureo suffundar lumine vultus, 
Et eimul ©thereo plaudam mihi lestus Olympo. 



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562 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS, 



EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS* 

ABfl OMENTUM. 

Thyrsis et Damon ejnsclem vicinise pastores, eadem studia sequatj 
h puerilia aniici eranfc, ut qui plurimum. Thyrsis animi causa pro- 
fectus peregre de obitu Damonis nunciuni accepit. Domum postea 
/evorsus, et rem ita esse comperto, 1 se suamque soiitudinem hut- 
carmine deplorat. Damonis autem sub persona hie intelligitur 
Caeolus Deodatus ex urbe Hetrurise Luca paterno genere oriundue 
vietera Anglus; ingenio, doctrina, clarissimisque eeeteris virtutibp.3 
lum viveret, juvenis egregius. 

Himerides nympnae (nam vos et Daphnin et Hylan, 
Et plorata diu meministis fata Bionis) 
Dicite Sicelicum Thamesina per oppida carmen : 
Quas miser effudit voces, quae murmura Thyrsis, 
Et quibus assiduis exercuit antra querelis, 
Fluminaque, fontesque vagos, nemorumque recessus, 
Dum sibi prasreptum queritur Damona, neque attain 
Luctibus exemit noctem loca sola pererrans. 
Et jam bis viridi surgebat culmus arista, 
Et totidem flavas numerabant horrea messes, 
Ex quo summa dies tulerat Damona sub umbrae, 
Nee dum aderat Thyrsis ; pastorem scilicet ilium 
Dulcis amor Muss Thusca retinebat in urbe. 
Ast ubi mens expleta domum, pecorisque relict! 
Cura vocat, simul assueta seditque sub ulmo, 
Turn vero amissum turn denique sentit amicum 
Coepit et immensum sic exonerare dolorem. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agrxs. 
Hei mihi ! quas terris, quae dicam numina ccelo, 
Postquam te immiti rapuerunt funere, Damon J 
Siccine nos linquis, tua sic sine nomine virtus 
Ibit, et obscmis numero sociabitur umbris? 
At non nie, ammas vn'ga qui dividit aurea, 
Ista velit, clignumque tui te ducat in agmen, 
Ignavumque procul pecus arceat omne silentum. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agnx 
Quicquid erit, eerie, nisi me lupus ante videbit, 
IndepJorato non comminuere sepulchro, 
Constabitque tuns tibi honos, longamque vigebii 
Inter pastores : illi tibi vota secundo 
Solvere post Daphnin, post Daphnin dicere laudes 

1 Comperieus edit. Fentou. 



*W* 



f 



£ YL VARUM LIBER. 563 



Gaudebunt, duin rura Pales, dum Faunus arnabit . 
Si quid id est, priscamque fidem coluisse, piumque, 
Palladiasque artes, sociumque liabuisse canorum 

Ite domum impasti,' domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Haec tibi certa manent, tibi erunt haec praemia, Damon 
At mibi quid tandem fiet xnodo ? quis mihi fidus 
ITserebit latcri comes, ut tu ssepe solebas 
Frigoribus duris, et per loea foeta pruinis, 
Aut rapido sub sole, siti morientibns lierbis, 
Sive opus in magnos fait eminus ire leones, 
Aut avidos terrere lupos prsesepibus altis, 
Quis fando sopire diem, cantuque solebit ? 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Pectora cui credam ? quis me lenire docebit 
Mordaces curas, quis longam fallere noctem 
Dulcibus alloquiis, grato cum sibilat igni 
Molle pyrum, et nucibus strepitat focus, et malus austei 
Miscet cuncta foris, et desuper intonat ulmo ? 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Aut aestate, dies medio dum vertitur axe, 
Cum Pan aesculea somnum capit abditus umbra, 
Et repetunt sub aquis sibi nota sedilia nymphae, 
Pastoresque latent, stertit sub sepe colonus, 
Quis mihi blanditiasque tuas, quis turn mihi risus, 
Cecropiosque sales referet, cultosque lepores ? 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni 
At jam solus agros, jam pascua solas oberro, 
Sicubi rarnosse densantur vallibus umbras, 
Hie serum expecto, supra caput imber et Emus 
Triste sonant, fractaeque agitata crepuscula sylvae. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
lieu, quam culta mihi prius arva procacibus herbis 
Involvuntur, et ipsa situ seges alta fatiscit! 
Tnnuba neglecto marcescit et uva racemo, 
Nee myrteta juvant ; ovium quoque tasdet, at ills 
Mcerent, inque suum convertunt ora magistrum. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Tityrus ad corylos vocat, Alphesiboeus ad ornos, 
Ad salices iEgon, ad flumina pulcher Amyntas, 
" Hie gelidi fontes, hie illj^a gramina musco, 
Hie Zephyri, hie placidai interstrepit arbutus undae;* 
Ista canunt surdo, frutices ego nactus abibam. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
M"opg-os ad hsec nam me redeuntem forte notarat 
00 

I 

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564 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

(Et callebat avium linguas, et sideia Mopsus), 
" Thyrsi quid hoc?" dixit, " quae te coquit improbabiiia? 
Aut te perdit amor, ant te male fascinat astrum, 
Saturni grave ssepe fuit pastorihus astrum, 
[ntimaque obliquo figit praecordia plumbo." 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Alirantur nymphas, et " quid te, Thyrsi, futurum est ? 
Quid tibi vis? " aiunt, " non haec solet esse juvcnlse 
Nubila frons, oculique truces, vultusque severi, 
Ola choros, lususque leves, et semper amorem 
Jure petit, bis ille miser qui serus amavit" 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agm. 
Venit Hyas, Dryopeque, et filia Baucidis iEgle, 
Docta modos, citharseque sciens, seel perdita fastu, 
Venit Idumanii Chloris vicina fluenti ; 
Nil me blanditiae, nil me solantia verba, 
Nil me, si quid adest, movet, aut spes ulla futuri. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni 
Hei mihi, quam similes ludunt per prata juvenci, 
Omnes unanimi secum sibi lege sodales ! 
Nee magis hunc alio quisqam secernit amicum 
De grege, sic densi veniunt ad pabula thoes, 
Inque vicem hirsuti paribus junguntur onagri; 
Lex eadem pelagi, deserto in littore Proteus 
Agmina phocarum numerat, vilisque volucrum 
Passer habet semper quicum sit, et omnia circum 
Farra libens volitet, sero sua teota revisens, 
Quern si sors letho objecit, seu milvus adunco 
Fata tulit rosero, seu stravit arundine fossor, 
Protinus ille alium socio petit inde volatu 
Nos durum genus, et diris exercita fatis 
Gens homines aliena animis, et pectore discors, 
Vix sibi quisque parem de millibus invenit iinuw 
Aut si sors dederit tandem non aspera votis, 
Ilium inopina dies, qua non speraveris hora, 
Surripit, seternum b'nquens in sascula damnum 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni 
Heu quis me ignotas traxit vagus erroi in oras 
[re per aereas rupes, Alpemque nivosam ! 
Ecquicl erat tanti Eomam vidisse sepultam 
(Quamvis ilia foret, qualem dum viseret olim, 
rityrus ipse suas et oves et rura reliquit); 
Ut'te tain dulci possem caruisse sodale, 
?ossem tot maria *tl*a^ t*t interponere montes. 






A. 



•4h 



SKZ T^i? £7J/ LIBER. 565 

Tot sylvas, tot saxa tibi, fluviosquo sonantes! 
All cert& extremuni licuisset tangere dextram, 
Et bone composites placid^ rnorientis ocellos, 
Et dixisse, "Vale, nostri raemor ibis ad astra." 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Quamquain etiam vestri nunquam memicisse pigebit, 
Pastores Thusci, Musis operata juventus, 
Hie Charis, atque Lepos ; et Thuscus tu quoque, Dame 
Antiqua genus unde petis Lucumonis ab iirbe. 
O ego quantus eram, gelidi ciun stratus ad Ami 
Murmura, populeumque nemus, qua mollior herb a, 
Carpere nunc violas, nunc sum mas carpere myrtos, 
Et potui Lycidae certantem audire Menalcam ! 
Ipse etiam tentare ausus sum, nee puto multum 
Displicui, nam sunt et apud me mujiera vestra 
Fiscellse, calathique, et cerea vincla cicutae : 
Quin et nostra suas docuerunt nomina fagos 
Et Datis, et Francinus, erant et vocibus ambo 
Et studiis noti, Lydorum sanguinis ambo. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
Haec mini turn laeto dictabat roscida luna, 
Dueq solus teneros claudebam cratibus hasdos 
Ah quoties dixi, cum te cinis ater habebat, 
Nunc canit, aut lepori nunc tendit retia Damon, 
Vimina nunc texit, varios sibi quod sit in usus ! 
Et quae turn facili sperabam mente futura 
Arripui voto levis, et praesentia linxi : 
" Ileus bone numquid agis ? nisi te quid forte re tarda t, 
Imus? et arguta pauliim recubamus in umbra, 
Aut ad aquas Colni, aut ubi jugera Cassibelauni ? 
Tu milii percurres medicos, tua gramina, succos, 
Helleborurnque, humilesque, crocos, foliumque, hyacinth; 
Quasque habet ista palus herbas, artesque medentum." 
Ah pereant herbae, pereant artesque medentum, 
Gramina, postquam ipsi nil profecere rnagistro. 
Ipse etiam, nam nescio quid mihi grande sonabat 
"Vistula, ab undecinia jam lux est altera noete, 
.fit turn forte novis admoram labra cicutis, 
Dissiluere tamen rupta compage, nee ultra 
Ferre graves potuere sonos ; dubito quoque ne sim 
Turgidulus, tamen et referam; ¥03 eedite, sylrse. 

Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni 
Ipse ego Lardanias Itutupina per aequora puppe.s 
Dicam, et Pandiasidcs regnuin vetus TiiogeniaB, 



<t 



4 



566 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Brennumque Arvigarumque duces, priscumque Belimuia 
Et tandem Armoricos Britonum sub lege colonos; 
Turn gravidam Arturo fatali fraude Iogernen, 
Mendaces vultus, assumptaque Grorlois arma, 
]\Ierlini dolus. milii turn si vita supersit, 
Tu procul annosa pendebis fistula pinu 
Multum oblita milii, aut patriis mutata Camoenis 
Brittonicum strides, quid enim ? omnia non licet uni ; 
Non sperasse uni licet omnia ; mi satis ampla, 
Merces, et milii grande decus (sim ignotus in aevum 
Turn licet, externo penitusque inglorius orbi) 
Si me flava comas legat Usa, et potor Alauni, 
Vorticibusque frequens Abra, et nemus omne Treantse, 
Et Thamesis meus ante omnes, et fusca metallis 
Tamara, et extremis me discant Orcades undis. 

Ite domum impasti, dommo jam non vacat, agni. 
Hsec tibi servabam lenta sub cortice lauri, 
Hsec, et plura simul, turn quas milii pocula Mansus, 
Mansus Chalcidicse non ultima gloria ripae, 
Bina dedit, rnirum artis opus, mirandus et ipse, 
Et circuni gemino caef&verat argumento: 
In medio rubri maris unda, et odoriferum ver, 
Littora longa Arabum, et sudantes balsama sylvae, 
Has inter Phoenix divina avis, unica terris, 
Ca3rul»um fulgens diversicoloribus alis 
Auroram vitreis surgentem respicit undis. 
Parte alia polus omnipatens, et magnus Olympus, 
Quis putet ? hie quoque Amor, pictaeque in nube pharetrra 
Arma corusca faces, et spicula tincta pyropo ; 
Nee tenues animas, pectusque ignobile vulgi 
Hinc ferit, at circum flammantia lumina torquens 
Semper in erectum spargit sua tela per orbes 
Impiger, et pronos nunquam collimat ad ictus, 
Hinc mentes ardere sacrae, formseque deorum. 

Tu quoque in his, nee me f alii t spec lubrica, Damon, 
Tu quoque in his certe es, nam quo tua dulcis abiret. 
Sanct&que simplicitas, nam quo tua Candida virtus" 
Vec te Lethseo fas quassivisse sub oreo, 
Nee tibi conveniunt lacryinae, nee nebimus ultra, 
Ite procul lacrymae, purum colit eethera Damou, 
iEthera purus habet, pluvium pede reppulit arcum - 
Heroumque animas inter, divosque perennes, 
iEthereos haurit latices, et gaudia potat 
Ore sacro Quin tu cceli post jura recepta 






SYL VAR UM LIBER. 567 

Dexter ades, placidusque fave quicunque vocaris, 
Seu tu noster eris Damon, sive aaquior audis 
Diodotus, quo te divino nomine euncti 
Caelicolae norint, sylvisque vocabere Damon. 
Quod tibi purpureus pudor, et sine labe juventus 
Grata fuit, quod nulla tori libata volupta?, 
En etiam tibi virginei servantur honores ; 
Ipse caput nitidum cinctus rutilante corona, 
Laetaque frondentis gestans umbracula palmse 
iEternum perages immortal es hymenseos ; 
Cantus ubi, choreisque furit lyra mista beatis, 
Festa Siona30 bacchantur et Orgia thyrso. 



January 23, 1646. 

HD JOANNEM KOUSIUM OXONIENSIS ACADEMIC 

BIBLIOTHECARIUM. 

De libro Poematum amisso, quern ille sibidenuo mitti postulate, 
ut cum aliis nostris in Bibliotheca publica reponeret, ode. 

Strophe I. 

Gemelle cultu simplici gaudens liber, 

Fronde licet gemina, 

Munditieque nitens non operosa, 

Quam maims attulit 

Juvenilis ol>m, 

Sedula tamen haud nimii poetse ; 

Dum vagus Ausonias nunc per umbr&a, 

Nunc Britannica per vireta lusit 

Insons populi, barbitoque devius 

Indnlsit patrio, mox itidem pectins Panni© 

Longinquum intonuit melos 

Vicinis, et humum vix tetigit pede < 

Antistrophe. 
Quis te parve liber, quis te fratribus 
Subduxit reliquis dolo ? 
Cum tu missus ab urbe, 
Docto jugiter obsecrante amico, 
Illustre tend eb as iter 
Thamesis ad inc»ip«b*4 



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56S MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 

Cssrulei patris, 
Fontes ubi limpidi 
Aonidum, thyasusque sacer 
Orbi notus per immensos 
Temporum lapsus redeunte cgqIo, 
Celeberque futurus in sevum? 

Strophe II. 
Modo quis dens, aut editus deo 
Pristinam gentis miseratus indolem 
(Si satis noxas luinius priores, 
Mollique luxu degener otium), 
Tollat nefandos civium tumultus, 
Almaque revocet studia sanctus, 
Et relegatas sine sede Musas 
Jam pene totis finibus Angligenum , 
Immundasque volucres 
TJnguibus imminentes 
Figat Apollinea pharetra 
Phineamque abigat pestem procul amne Pegaseo? 

Anttstrophe. 
Quin tu, libelle, nuntii licet mala 
Fide, vel oscitantia, 
Semel erraveris agmine fratrum, 
Sen quis te teneat specus, 
Seu qua te latebra, forsan unde vib 
Callo tereris institoris insulsi, 
Laetare felix, en iterum tibi 
Spes nova fulget posse profundam 
Fugere Lethen, vehique superam 
\n Jovia aulam remige penna ; 

Strophe III. 
Nam te Boiisius sui 
Optat peculi, numercque justo 
Sibi pollicitum queritur abesse, 
Rogatque venias ille cujus inclyta 
Sunt data virum monumenta curae : 
Teque adytis etiam saeris 
Voluit reponi, quibus et ipse prsesidei 
iEternorum operum custos fidelis \ 
Qusestorque gazse nobilioiis, 
Quam cui praefuit I6n f 



♦f V 



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SYL FAR UM LIBER. 569 

"Jlarus Erecbtbeides, 
Opulenta dei per ternpla parentis, 
Fulvosque tripoclas, donaque Delphica, 
Ion Actsea geuitus Creusa. 

Antistkophb, 

Ergo tu visere lucos 

Musarum ibis ainoenos, 

Diarnque Pbcebi rursus ibis in domunri, 

Oxonia quam valle colit, 

j)elo postbabita, 

/Sifidoque Parnassi jugo : 

Ibis lionestus, 

Postquam egregiam tu quo que sortem 

Nactus abis, dextri prece sollicitatus simd. 

Illic legeris inter alta noroina 

Autborum, Graiae simul et Latins 

Antiqua gentis lurnina, et verurn decus 

Epodos. 

Vos tandem baud vacui mei labores, 

Quicquid boc sterile fudit mgenium, 

Jam sero placidam sperare jubeo 

Perfunctam invidia requiem, sedesque beatas, 

Quas bonus Hermes 

Et tutela clabit solers Rousi, 

Quo neque lingua rjrocax vulgi penetrabit, atqua longs 

Turba legentum prava facessct ; 

At ultimi nepotes, 

Et cordatior aetas, 

Judicia rebus aequiora forsitan 

Adbibebit integro sinu. 

Turn, livore sepulto, 

%i quid meremur sane, posteritas Bciet, 

ftoiisio favente, 



4 



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570 MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 



Ode tribas constat Strophis, totidemque Antistrophis, una deinum 
Spodo clausis, quas, tametsi omnes nee versuum numero, nee certU 
abique colis exacts respondeant, ita tainen secuimus, commode 
legendi potius, quam ad antiquos concinendi modos, rationem spec- 
tantes. Alioquin hoe genus rectiiis fortasse dici monostrophicum 
debuerat. Metra partim sunt Kara oyioiv, partim a.Tro\CKv\Liva. 
Phaleucia quse sunt, spondseum tertio loco bis admittunt, quod idem 
in secundo loco Catullus ad libitum fecit. 

LT> CHRISTINAM SUECORUM REGINAM NCMTNF 

CEOMWELLI." 

Bellipotens virgo, septem regina trionum, 

Christina, Arctoi lueida stclla poli ! 
Cernis quas merui dura sub casside rugas, 

Utque senex armis impiger ora tero ; 
In via fatorum dum per vestigia nitor, 

Exequor et populi fortia jussa manu. 
A st tibi submittit frontem reverentior umbra; 

Nee sunt hi vultus regibus usque truces. 

1 These verses were sent to Christina Queen of Sweden, v?ith 
Cromwell's ^—^re, and are by some ascribed to Andrew Marvel, as 
by others to Milton; but I should rather think they were Milton's, 
being more within his province as Latin secretary 



rSFB 3 3?S 



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